


Nocturnal

by theunknownfate



Category: Watchmen - All Media Types
Genre: Blood and Gore, First Kiss, First Time, M/M, Nightmares, Slow Burn, Sort Of, Suspense, Violence, Werewolves, old kinkmeme prompt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-09
Updated: 2019-01-13
Packaged: 2019-01-15 09:39:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 33
Words: 62,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12318456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theunknownfate/pseuds/theunknownfate
Summary: Seven years ago, this fic began on the Watchmen kinkmeme and wasn't completely finished until last year's nanowrimo. Watchmen and werewolves. Things go downhill from there.





	1. Chapter 1

His partner hadn’t shown up as agreed, so a grumbling, grudging Rorschach patrolled alone and then went to check on Daniel as the sun rose. The Nest was dark and he made his way to the stairs with one hand held out. From there, it was easy, but the sight of the kitchen stopped him cold. There was blood on the table, on the floor, a hand print on the wall as if Dan had stumbled and had to catch himself. 

His first horrified thought was that Daniel had been hurt on the way to their agreed meeting place and had made it home only to lay there bleeding to death while his partner fumed about being stood up. But the blood was still fresh and shiny. There were smudges and smears and more handprints all the way up the stairs. A chair and the coffee table in the living room were knocked aside. Rorschach hurried through the house, up the stairs and stopped outside the bathroom. 

The door was open and he could hear water running. The stink was incredible. It was a blend of blood, vomit, and shit, coppery, foul, and sharp as acid. Whatever had happened had been bad. Rorschach braced himself for the worst and stepped inside. 

Daniel lay in the tub. The blood on the faucet suggested he had pawed the water on and collapsed with his head under the trickle. At some point after that, he had lost all bodily control, emptying out both ends in the tub. Thankfully, maybe, he was naked. He didn’t move when Rorschach spoke to him or touched his shoulder. Rorschach nudged Daniel up on his side and turned on the shower . He didn’t want the filth washing out over Daniel’s face. 

He didn’t see any fresh injuries, but the blood had come from somewhere. There were faint marks on Daniel’s body, but they weren’t bleeding. The water droplets had gathered around one on his neck. It looked like a stray bullet wound, but it hadn’t been there the last time he had seen Nite Owl pull his cowl back. It hadn’t been there two days ago when he had seen Daniel out on the street, stopping for a newspaper with his coat open. He touched it with one gloved finger, pulled the skin tight enough that a drop of blood seeped out. 

It was a fresh wound, still open. He turned to look at Daniel again and found the eyes open and staring at him. 

“Rorschach,” Daniel said. He was hoarse, as if he‘d screamed his throat raw. Guilt for not having been there tightened Rorschach‘s mouth under the mask. Shame for being angry at Daniel, for not showing when he had been hurt this badly, made him pull his hand back. 

“Glad it’s you,” Dan rasped. His eyes closed again. “Sorry you have to see me this way, but glad it’s you.”

“What happened?” Rorschach asked, his voice a whisper. “Who did this to you?”

“I happened,” Daniel said. “To somebody else.” He made a sound that was either an attempt to laugh or a broken sob, but it turned into a cough, and he vomited up red and brown chunks into the drain. Some of it was hair, Rorschach realized queasily, and there was a scrap of fabric from a shirt in there too. The button stared out of the mess like an eye. Dan moaned and curled tighter into himself.

 

It took the better part of an hour to get Daniel clean enough to be bearable. There was so much blood in his hair that Rorschach took off his gloves to feel over his skull for injuries. Nothing there, but he was missing a chunk out of his ear. Nothing to be done for it but douse it with alcohol and give the neck wound the same treatment. 

“Someone shot you,” he said aloud. Daniel made an affirmative sound. He had leaned over to open his mouth under the spray. Rorschach watched his neck work with swallows and put the alcohol on the sink. Daniel seemed to realize that he had explaining to do and licked his lips. 

“I remember the noise,” he said. “But not getting hit.” 

Rorschach understood that. Adrenaline. Sometimes he made it all the way home after a fight before he realized he was bleeding. He insisted that Daniel get up so he could check for more injuries and ended up have to drag him bodily to his feet in the slippery shower. He braced him against the wall like a criminal at pat down. The marks on his body were faint, fading like creases from laying on wrinkled sheets. Daniel just groaned and leaned his head against the tile. He was shaking from the effort. It reminded Rorschach of adrenal fatigue. Was it possible Dan was just exhausted?

“Lock up if you don’t move,” he grumbled finally. “Get dressed, come downstairs. We’ll clean the mess and eat something.” Daniel sighed like he was asking for the world, but climbed out of the tub and lurched down the hallway. He didn’t bother with a towel, and the wet trail he left made Rorschach just drop a towel to scrub with his foot. That got the hallway floor clean and he had started on the walls when Daniel limped back out. 

“Feels like a toothache through my whole body,” he complained. “I could sleep for a week.”

“Get some fluids first,” Rorschach decided. He got behind Daniel to nudge him down the stairs. He made a vaguely dismayed sound at the blood trail through his house but collapsed wearily into a chair without touching it. Rorschach shuffled for a moment, then began to noisily make coffee. He made a mess of it, but Daniel didn’t respond to anything until a hot mug was slid into his hands. 

“I remember some of it,” he said suddenly. “It was like the good nights, when you’re faster and stronger than everyone else in the fight, and they’re afraid of you and they run but can’t escape and they fall. You know what I mean.“

Rorschach did. He nodded and slid into the opposite chair. 

“I fought somebody,” Daniel said. Instead of raising the cup to his lips, he dropped his head to sip some from the surface without lifting it. It was a weird gesture and the clanging alarms going off in Rorschach’s head went a little more shrill. “Feels like I won, but God, I’m paying for it.”

“Hrnh,” Rorschach said. They were both quiet until he asked. “Where?”

“I honestly don’t remember,” Daniel raised his head to squint at him and Rorschach realized he hadn’t bothered to put his glasses on. “I might be able to make it to the couch if I start now.” 

He got up with a little gasp and shuffled to the living room. Rorschach followed, all unease and frantic observation. He was trying to see any clue, any hint to what Daniel wasn’t telling him and since when had Daniel ever been so vague? Daniel flopped down and blinked at the dark tv screen until Rorschach couldn’t stand it and turned it on. It was the morning news, too loud and cheerful and brightly colored. 

“Nff,” Daniel said. He let his head loll back and his eyes closed. In only a minute or two, he was asleep. Rorschach shifted from foot to foot, then went back to the bloodbath in the kitchen. Now that the lights were on, he could see clumps of hair and shreds of flesh or maybe just blood-soaked fabric in the puddles. He opened the basement door and looked down into the dark. 

With just the lights from the kitchen, he could see that Archie was gone. Whatever had happened had been bad enough to send Daniel staggering home on foot, leaving his beloved ship somewhere in the city. If Rorschach could find it, he could backtrack, try to piece together what and where.

He turned on the light and stopped again. In the dark, he had walked right by the source of all the mess and hadn’t noticed. There wasn’t much left of it, but he saw a piece of spinal column and a belt buckle, and over there in the shadow of the stairs was a piece that still wore a shoe. There was a splatter on the floor that his mind was already making into the profile of a fanged maw. 

He couldn’t move, couldn’t even feel his legs to move. Behind him he could hear some idiot on the show laugh and the studio audience joined in. If he went back in would Dan still be on the couch? Was he standing there behind him even now, gauging his reaction? That was ridiculous, part of him insisted, but the quality of a nightmare still hung over him, and it was a long time before he was able to turn back into the light.


	2. Chapter 2

It took hours for Rorschach to find Archie parked under a water tower two blocks from where they were supposed to meet. Dan had made it that far anyway. Rorschach checked inside just to be sure that who ever was responsible for Dan’s state hadn’t tampered with anything. There were pieces of costume inside. Most of it was intact, but there was some tearing around the neck.

Rorschach's head was whirling with all the implications. Dan had said that he had happened to someone, had been aware of that much. What would his reaction be to the mess in his basement? He had vomited up flesh and clothing. Even if he hadn’t killed the victim, he had been crazed enough to tear off mouthfuls and swallow them. 

Rorschach shifted from wanting to sprint straight home to shake more information out of his partner to worrying about leaving Archie unattended any longer. It was broad daylight. If someone happened upon the ship Dan's identity could be compromised. But the truth was still unknown. He had to keep a grip on himself to find out what happened to Nite Owl.

First things first: he didn’t know enough about the ship’s workings to fly Archie home by himself. He wasn’t comfortable just leaving it here, so he sealed up the doors and hoped the water tower’s shadow would keep it hidden. On the roof, he concentrated on finding any clues as to what had happened. He stalked the edge of the building. No fire escapes, or safe landings below, and the utility door was padlocked, but there was another building in jumping range. 

Rorschach got a running start and jumped it himself. There were scuffle marks on the other side, as if Dan’s landing hadn’t been so coordinated. The rest of the roof looked clean, but on the far side, in the alley below, a dumpster had been knocked over. That would take something big and heavy. A climb down reminded Rorschach that he had been out all night and half the day with no rest or food. He wasn’t at his best. His eyes were tired, so it took three passes to find the smear of blood, faint and dry, but the same arcing smudge at about shoulder height as on Daniel’s walls.

He followed it, annoyed at the daytime clamor of alleys that he usually saw dark and silent. There were signs the whole way, a path in the rubble, more scuffs and scratches on the brick, a path cleared through the debris, and there, finally, a cheap plastic purse. It was on its side and half open. It had not been rifled through and there was another, larger blood spatter. 

He started to turn around, but then noticed the gleam of metal in the garbage along the edge of the wall. It was a firearm and now that he was looking closely he could smell something in with the piss and trash alley smell. It was the same blood and body-emptying terror he had smelled on Dan in the bathroom. 

There was a smear of something up the wall, so Rorschach hurried around back to the fire escape and clambered up. The smear went into an actual puddle of blood by the air conditioning. There was a shoe there. He didn’t need to look closely to tell it was the mate of the one in the Nest, only without a foot. That was all he really needed to see. He felt a headache twisting to life behind his eyes. His heartbeat was fast and hard too. Horror was exhausting. 

It was well after noon, so he still had time to get back before dark if he hurried. The weariness hung on him like weights now, but he blocked it out to run, keeping off the streets as much as possible. 

Dan was still asleep when he came back in. The tv was still blaring away, a kids' show with talking animals. Rorschach turned it off and waited, but Dan didn’t move until he flopped down into the couch next to him. 

“Hey, buddy,” he said, groggily. “You hungry?”

“No,” Rorschach said. It wasn’t entirely a lie. His stomach was empty but he had no appetite left. Dan nodded as if that was the answer he expected and immediately went back to sleep. Rorschach watched him slump, saw his muscles go completely slack. He tried to let himself relax, telling himself that he would need rest to be alert later. There were still a few hours until sundown, and as horrified as he was, Rorschach wasn’t really afraid of Dan. Not yet anyway. He let his eyes close, promising himself it was only for a moment.

 

Rorschach woke to the sounds of water splashing. He could smell bleach and the light out the window was dim. The sun was setting. Dan was gone from the couch and the mess in the kitchen was clean. The water sound was coming from the basement. 

“Hey,” Dan said before he stepped into sight. He was hosing the blood off the floor into a drain. 

“Do you know who it was?” Rorschach asked, coming down the stairs. Part of him was furious at Dan for trying to hide what had happened, destroying evidence, but the rest of him was only cautious and a little curious. 

“He had a gun,” Dan said, still not looking at him. “There was a girl screaming. Whoever he was, I killed him and dragged him back here.” The silence stretched out. 

“And?” Rorschach asked. There was none of his usual accusing intensity. He was just asking, waiting to hear what Dan had to say for himself. 

“You saw,” Dan said. “Your tracks were through the blood.” They were both quiet. Dan turned off the hose and they watched the last of it trickle down the drain. “There wasn’t anything to tell who he was. What do you think? Should I go to the police?”

“And what? Show them the wet spot on the floor? Was never your intention, Daniel.”

“No. “ Dan almost chuckled, damn him. He looked sheepish, but not guilty. “You’re right.”

“How did it happen?” Rorschach asked. No need to beat around any bushes. They both knew, insane as it seemed. No matter how absurd it sounded in his head, the evidence was there, and Dan knew it too. He wasn’t denying anything, hardly even seemed ashamed, and why should he be? He couldn’t help it. Shame didn’t change the facts. 

“Remember that kid? The one we found in that cage in the sweatshop?” Rorschach winced under the mask, remembering the smell and the way the feral child cringed from the light, screaming and fighting like a wildcat when they pulled him out of the cage. 

“Bit your hand,” he said. “Thought your gloves stopped it.”

“Little bastard’s incisor hit a thin spot on the thumb knuckle,” Dan said. The casual insult was shocking from him. “Just a tiny puncture. It got a little infected, but healed up pretty quickly.” He finally turned to face Rorschach. “Do you have any silver?”

“No.” It was the truth, no matter how quickly and guiltily he said it. Dan nodded thoughtfully. They stared at each other, all the unsaid things filling the room like quicksand, getting thicker and deeper until they both drowned. Rorschach felt tense, and a little nauseous. What was he supposed to do? Kill his partner? He didn’t even know if- he couldn’t be sure yet, they didn’t know enough to do anything drastic. But, Daniel couldn’t be allowed to harm innocents. The authorities wouldn’t be able to do anything. They could barely handle human monsters. 

“We should get Archie back,” Dan said suddenly. He started walking down the tunnel. “Sealed inside it’s unlikely that I’ll get out.”

“We’ll never make it in time,” Rorschach said. “Ship is miles away.”

“Then you had better not be here when I get back.” Dan didn’t even turn around. “Not until the sun comes up anyway.” He broke into a run and disappeared into the darkness. Rorschach stood for several minutes, then dashed up the stairs to the kitchen. He locked the basement door behind him, and hurried out, also locking the front door. If he sprinted, he could make it to the subway exit before Dan did on the other side and follow him and see for himself. And hopefully not be seen himself.

There was still a smear of orange along the horizon, the sun’s blood trail as it died. Over his shoulder, the moon was rising.


	3. Chapter 3

There was already blood. Rorschach slid to a stop by the hidden entrance. A splatter and a handprint were there on the sidewalk, blending in with the other stains. The streetlights were on and there were people out. Had they seen anything? A few caught sight of Rorschach and found something fascinating inside their doors before he could get to them. Where was Daniel?

The clamor of the city was still there, voices, cars, vents, distant radios, television sets, and somewhere a dog was barking. Rorschach cast around for any clue to where Dan had gone. Where had the blood come from? Unless the Change tore Dan open in a violent bloody rebirth, but where had the new child gone? The unseen dog went silent and Rorschach looked up. 

The first victim had been dragged up a wall. Most people couldn’t be bothered to notice what was happening under their noses much less over their heads. Daniel was hunting from the rooftops. Rorschach grumbled under his breath and ran for the nearest fire escape. 

Getting up on the roof put him closer to the fog bank, but he could still see. The moonlight didn’t stand a chance against all the neon. Nothing pure did, but it helped silhouette the skyline. Rorschach turned and rotated, trying to take in as much of the view as possible. Nothing, nothing, there!

It was a blur of motion, big and moving fast, on the other side of the street a few buildings down. Rorschach took off after it. It felt like he had run a long time, but had no idea how far or how much time had really gone by. The back of his brain was trying to process, it brought up some memory of this being a bad part of town, deep in the throes of rival gangs and rumors of a mob boss behind the curtains, but gunshots rang out and derailed him. 

There weren’t any screams, just grunts and more shots, until both were silent and Rorschach’s dash slid into a much more stealthy creep. There was a car around the corner in an alley, hood up, tires gone, tools scattered. Behind that, behind a dumpster, something ripped and tore and the arch of a back rose like a wave before sinking down again. Rorschach ducked around, forcing rubbery legs to run back around the building for a view that kept him out of reach. 

It was horrible. It was huge, bigger than Daniel, no resemblance at all except for the way it rolled one shoulder to crouch down. It shifted one foot back the way Dan did too, but then its teeth grated on the ribcage. The body was half lifted, then slumped back as the mouthful was eaten. The sound tore through Rorschach’s composure. He shuddered, felt his empty stomach lurch, and his teeth sink into his bottom lip.

He remembered that sound. He hadn’t been paying attention the first time he had heard it, but it had come back to him in dreams after that; the wet click of fangs on exposed bone, the half growl of satisfaction from down in the throat, the creak like wet leather as flesh pulled tight and ripped. She had been so small, even her femurs had crunched, and this thing was far bigger than both those dogs put together. 

How big was it? How much of it was actually shadow? He saw its ears perk and pivot, listening for his weak gasping. It raised its head, tongue flashing over its blood-slick face. Memories of snarling, snapping teeth from dogfights and guard animals and starved alley strays flashed through his mind, but it was that night again that took center stage. He hadn’t told anyone about that, hadn’t had the words. This was worse.

Part of why the dogs had been so awful was because they had been dogs. Guardians, playmates, companions, innocently, stupidly tearing at the flesh they should’ve protected. This thing was nowhere near a dog. A million years ago there had been no dogs, and things like this had walked. This is why humans had started building walls. Fear welled up, raw and primal. This thing would kill him. Eat him. 

It didn’t know him, didn’t care who he was. It might not even recognize him as a fellow creature. It could easily have been him under those claws, pulled to bright shreds by the teeth. 

But. It was still Daniel. Beautiful in his strength, terrifying without his humanity, and heart-stoppingly awesome. The wide head tilted and was suddenly looking straight at him, eyes golden in the dark.

He ran. He was torn between selfish and noble interests. He had to get Daniel off the streets before someone saw him and before he caught sight of another potential meal, one easier to catch than his light-footed partner. Behind him, claws scrabbled on cinder block and the creature sprang over the edge of the building and took off after him. He wouldn’t have a prayer on a flat running surface. The obstacle course of the rooftops (and a two roof head start) was all the hope he had of escaping. 

He had to run. He wasn’t going to last long under that yellow stare, brighter and fiercer than the goggles had ever been. He had to risk a look back and his heart clenched. It wasn’t like the movies with growling and snarling. It was running silently except for its excited breathing and he was never sure how close it was getting. He saw it leap from one roof to the other like it was nothing. Its side and belly were highlighted for a moment, and he could see the new musculature ripple under the new hide and felt his head reel a little. He couldn’t afford a stumble now though, so he pulled his eyes away, ducked his head and ran. 

It wasn’t horror at how unnatural the thing was, but at how perfect it was. Every part of it fit and flowed. It was made for this, for chasing down clumsy, clueless shod apes and at any moment he would feel claws or teeth on his legs or his back. Would it tear out mouthfuls as soon as it had him or would it take the time to kill him first? He didn’t know. Daniel would know, had done enough field work, studied enough biology to know. 

He thought for a moment what Daniel would think the morning after killing him. Maybe the hat would survive to mark the blood stains like a headstone. He imagined Daniel looking in his bathroom mirror and seeing fluid from the torn mask mixed with the blood splattered over his face and chest and realizing what he had done. Black and white and red all over. He flattered himself for a moment that his partner would be as devastated by this as he would be if the situation was reversed, but had to leap a series of skylights and wasn’t able to think about anything but his footing for a long sick moment. 

There was a throb in his throat now, and a sharper pain in his side. He would have to get out of reach soon. He couldn’t keep this pace up. He didn’t dare look behind him this time. What time was it? How long until morning?

Archie. He wasn’t far from Archie now. If Daniel thought it could keep him in, wouldn’t it keep him out? Just long enough to catch his breath and think of what to do next. And maybe the sight of his creation would spur a memory in Daniel’s new mind. Then again, maybe the lovingly created ship would just be a part of the landscape to a hungry predator. He wasn’t hurt that his own presence hadn’t triggered any recognition. He hadn’t expected anything more than a pause, and only as long as it took to process his scent as edible or not. 

Behind him, glass shattered and he couldn’t help but look back again. The thing hadn’t bothered to jump the skylights and had just run over them. A large one had broken under the weight and the front leg (left arm) had gone through. Its momentum pitched it forward, shattering another one. Rorschach used the grappling gun to get up the steep side of the next building. He only paused long enough to retract the cable and hook, but that was long enough for him to see it rip itself free from the shards with a growl. To do that, it had to go bipedal and even in that brief moment, Rorschach could see the joints in the legs (back legs) realign to allow it. Then, it was running again, on two legs this time, and so was he.

The pulse in his throat was choking him now. He was gasping for breath. His calves were burning. He could see the water tower Archie was beneath now. Another two blocks and he would be there, but not if he lost his lead. The thing took longer to climb the wall than he had estimated, which bought him some time. Maybe the glass had done more damage than expected. Maybe it had decided to cut around and head him off. Maybe he was running straight for it. 

No. A huff of breath, intense and hungry, behind him. He heard claws on the tiles now, panting and the pure flesh and blood sound of motion. It was on all fours again and closing fast. He couldn’t outrun it, couldn’t hope to beat it in a fight, not like this. So, he jinked. He changed direction so suddenly his own coattail whipped at his legs and he heard the scrabbling of claws, like a cat on a waxed floor as it wasn’t able to make the same turn. 

He spun again to keep the water tower in sight. It was just a street away and a handful of floors up. He was almost there, but he wasn’t going to make it. His joints were going watery and every breath was on fire. Only one trick left up his sleeve and that was the grappling gun again. He had to slide to a stop to aim for the tower and he sensed rather than saw the wave of killing beast cresting over him. Then the cable went taut and yanked him away. He hit the far wall hard enough to slap a cry out of him and then it was jerking him up the side. 

His knuckles, elbow, shoulder, and jaw were all scoured by the brick as he went up. He heard the leather and canvas shredding before he felt the skin under them do the same. It made his fingers slip on the gun, pain and exhaustion taking their price, but Daniel had made the gun for him and had made the grip especially for him to cling to. And the alternative was to fall to his death anyway. He would almost rather be torn to shreds and eaten than lie in a heap in the gutter for the whores and punks to bend over and poke at. 

He made it to the roof, staggered, and fell. A howl rose behind him, frustrated and hungry, but not about to give up yet. He forced himself up again and lurched over to Archie. He had sealed the door, but knew where the hidden switch was. He couldn’t hear anything over his own labored breathing and pounding heartbeat. His torn fingers fumbled and it took him four tries to get the hatch open. He crawled inside and turned to hit the close button, just as huge hairy silhouette heaved itself up over the edge of the building. 

“Daniel,” someone pleaded and he was distantly shocked to realize it was him. He knew better than that. The thing leaped at him, even as the hatch slid shut. The impact of it hitting the door rocked Archie on his side, and Rorschach lay in the floor to let his breathing settle and his shock wear off. He was shaking and that much didn’t stop as the clawing and thumping continued from outside. He couldn’t see the clock in the console from the floor, but it didn’t matter. Archie would either hold until morning or he wouldn’t.


	4. Chapter 4

He was dreaming of teeth and torn flesh and the sound it made as the tissues ripped. He wasn’t asleep. He was still sitting on the floor, but he had scooted back to the far wall, facing the door. The scratching had stopped. Twice a shadow had passed over the two round windows and the second time it had lingered there a long time. He had heard claws test the glass, but the skylights might’ve taught it caution. It didn’t try to smash through. 

He was still aware of motion outside the ship. He thought he could make out some sniffing sounds. There was the occasional creak as it tested a new spot every now and then. Persistent. That was a good sign wasn’t it? A mindless monster would’ve forgotten him by now, moved on to another target. Surely the living city below them presented plenty of those, no matter how late the hour. Dare he hope that there was enough mind left that it could understand the challenge posed in getting inside or did that just make the creature all the more dangerous?

He must’ve slipped into some kind of doze because the hiss of the hatch opening startled him. Had it found the latch? He would have to get out through the ceiling hatch quickly, _quickly!_ but his panic flatlined when it was a naked, bloodied Daniel that knelt there. There wasn’t any daylight behind him, but the moon must’ve set. He had blood smeared from his nose all the way down his chest. One arm still had the cuts from the windows and there was another gash on his chin. His hands were the worst, as if climbing with claws left them bloody nubs when he turned back. 

“Rorschach,” he whispered and collapsed inside to crawl across the floor to him. Rorschach didn’t know if it was relief that made him go so bonelessly weak or something more detrimental. Dan was touching him, pawing at his legs, all the coordination gone from his hands. That was horrible, to see his clever, creating hands so clumsy. 

He pawed his way up Rorschach’s body like he was blind, feeling for injuries or a pulse. He was babbling in a whisper, thanking God and apologizing. Shellshocked, Rorschach allowed it until the hands started roaming over his head and face. 

“I’m all right,” he said, pushing the hands back. Daniel’s miserable litany changed. 

“You’re sure?” he gasped. “Are you sure? I didn’t-? You’re sure I didn’t?”

“I’m fine,” Rorschach tried to sit up, but Dan didn’t lean back to let him and that brought them nose to nose. The smell of crusty blood on Dan’s breath made him swallow hard. “It was close,” he admitted, “but I made it.”

“L-look at this,” Dan whimpered. He held up a scrap of cloth that Rorschach recognized from his own coat. It had been closer than he thought. “It was stuck in my teeth. In my teeth, Rorschach.” As if hearing it twice made it more shocking. “All the blood, and I thought, I thought-”

“Gun saved me,” Rorschach said, letting his head hang so he wouldn’t have to look at Dan’s frightened face. “Ship saved me.”

“So…” the bloodied hands were running more gently over the torn coat sleeves and shoulder. The faded pain flared back to life. “I didn’t… this wasn’t me?”

“Bricks. Unforgiving.” He wanted to shrug the hands off his sandpapered injuries but then Dan’s arms were around him, and the blood-spattered chest pressed him back against the wall. As hugs went, this was a desperate, messy thing.

“I was afraid,” Dan said. His voice sounded more like himself, still shaken but not dripping misery anymore. “That you’d be in here bled to death, or just bitten, and then what would I do? What… what could I…?” He fell silent but didn’t release the embrace. They lay there like that until sunrise did start to peek in through the window. “What are we going to do?” he asked after a while.

“What would you have done if I had been bitten?” Rorschach asked. Dan sucked in a shaky breath.

“Pack us both up and head north,” he said after another long pause. “Up to Canada, somewhere isolated. Ride it out away from people until we knew what to do.”

“Still an option.” Rorschach said. “Was better this time though… Not as messy.” Dan didn’t know what he meant for a second, but then remembered the state he had been found in the day before. He was too worn out to be embarrassed. 

“I don’t feel as sick,” he agreed. “Just sore. Tired.“ 

“Didn’t eat as much this time,” Rorschach went on. “Interrupted your feed. Maybe don’t need as much as you think?”

“Eyes bigger than my stomach?” Dan didn’t move his head off Rorschach’s shoulder, but his eyelashes brushed the trench coat lapel as he refocused on Rorschach’s face. Rorschach just made one of his low grunts. “What big eyes I have,” he whispered next. 

“Your arm?” Rorschach asked, changing the subject. He shifted to look at it and Dan raised it to show him. The slashes were fading, just as the bullet hole had. 

“I once read a story,” Dan said. “About a doctor traveling from town to town. He got lost on his way to a small village and had to go through the woods at night. He was attacked by a wolf and all he had was his knife, but he was able to cut off one of its paws. It ran away screaming and he hurried on to the nearest house as fast as he could.”

“Hnh,” Rorschach said. The smaller cuts were already fading back into Dan’s skin. 

“As soon as he got inside,” Dan said. His voice was trailing off, but he kept on going. “There was a panic and one of the family ran to him screaming ‘Thank God you’ve come. There’s been an accident.’ They dragged him upstairs and the lady of the house was being bandaged because of her hand. She said she had gone out to light the lanterns so that the doctor could find his way and been attacked by a wolf that had bitten her hand off.”

“Obvious lie,” Rorschach grunted. His fingers traced the worst of the cuts. It was already smaller than it had been. 

“The doctor did what he could for her, and then called the husband aside. He told the man what had happened to him and pulled out the paw to show him, but while it was in his pocket, it had turned into a woman’s hand, with a ring the poor husband recognized still on its finger.” He was quiet so long that Rorschach put his arm down and let it clutch his coat. A sliver of light from the window left a bright crescent on the floor, like the smile of morning. 

“The story ended there,“ Dan mumbled. He sounded like he was falling asleep. “They never said what happened to her. Probably burned her at the stake. If it’s true.”

Rorschach wanted to say that it wouldn’t happen to Daniel, but was entirely too honest to make that promise. Sandwiched under Dan’s naked body, Rorschach could feel his heartbeat began to steady and the shaking muscles start to relax. The change was exhausting, that much was evident. Maybe that’s why the need to feed. Such a violent, epic transformation needed fuel. The sliver of sunlight had widened. It spread across both their legs now, waxing like the moon. One more night of this, he realized, and then they would have some time to decide on a course. If they both survived it. 

“If you could control it,” he said suddenly, but trailed off when he realized Dan was already asleep. He mulled it over. He should be horrified. And he was, but it was more sympathetic than professional. His partner was a cursed man, doomed to feed off the innocent, assuming such things still existed. It seemed likely that werewolves were more common. 

He reconsidered that thought. There was still innocence and purity in the world, it was just that it was such easy prey and now Daniel was a predator. He forced himself to ease back into the memory of that night. What would he have done if instead of dogs, it had been Daniel there, savage and hungry and tearing the child apart? Would the blade have still come down?

His stomach heaved and his breath hissed under the mask. Dan’s arms twitched around him, distracting him. It was still Daniel. He would only have to wait until he turned back and show him the remains to punish him more than the blade could. Daniel might take things into his own hands then, end it himself. No, he wouldn’t. He would be miserable in his remorse, might want to take his own life, but hope and the impulse to fix things were intrinsic parts of his psyche. 

If he lost that, he might ask his partner to do it, and Rorschach had to process that thought very carefully to keep from hyperventilating. He could probably do it if he had to, but there was a void yawning behind that notion. As damaged as he knew himself to be already, he also knew he would never be the same after that. Bad enough to lose Daniel, but to be the one that killed him? In his darkest hours, at his most Rorschach-like, he had accepted that he was alone in the violent world, but the little pockets that still held traces of Walter still clung to the thought that there were people like Daniel in the world and needed them. 

He thought of what he would have to do to hide a body Dan’s size. He wouldn’t be able to tell the other Crimebusters. They would expect him to know where Nite Owl had gone. He couldn’t pretend he didn’t. He couldn’t imagine telling them. He would have to disappear too. What would they do to him if they found out? He imagined Veidt’s superior disappointment and the outright horror and disgust from the Silk Spectre. Manhattan might blink. He couldn’t fight them all. He’d end up sedated in a straitjacket with all the cards looking like wolves and owls and moon phases.

He looked back at Dan, curled up against him like a child with a giant teddy bear. His head was a heavy pressure against the scrapes on Rorschach’s shoulder. He was still a grisly mess, blood caked in the creases around his mouth, and still a little shiny in the hollow of his throat. It was easy to imagine his eyes flying open, his mouth suddenly full of fangs as he lunged for Rorschach’s throat. 

Rorschach let that scenario run through his mind and couldn’t come up with a counter plan. He found himself wondering what had happened to the child from the sweat shop. That was something he could investigate. They could check the social service records. Where had the child been bitten? There had been no recent wounds on the thin body and he had already been caged. Illegal immigrants shipping cursed children? It made no sense, unless it had happened on the boat ride over, or they had come in hopes of America having a cure. 

Which meant there could be more. How many? At least three, counting Dan. Bitten survivors were probably rare considering the carnage, one chance in a million to survive an attack, but how many million people were in New York?

“Daniel,” he said, sitting up and wriggling. “Wake up. Been here long enough. Have to go.”

“Mrr?” Dan said, one eye barely opening. The image of him attacking seemed ridiculous now. He blinked blearily and sat up with a groan. They had both forgotten that he was naked until he got to his knees. Rorschach looked away quickly and Dan groggily swore under his breath at the sight of his blood-smeared body. “Got it all over you too. I’m sorry.”

“Irrelevant,” Rorschach got to his feet and refusing to gasp or hunch in pain as circulation returned to his lower half. 

“Have to pee,” Dan muttered to himself. He still looked groggy. 

“Not in here,” Rorschach said at once.

That got him such a sharp look that he was embarrassed and Dan had already shuffled out the hatch before Rorschach could remind him that it wasn’t such a good idea to relieve himself in broad daylight on a rooftop while naked and bloody beside an airship that everyone and their brother would recognize. He heard Dan grumble something, but couldn’t think of anything else to do but sit primly in his chair until Dan came back in. 

They flew home in silence. Dan was either still half-asleep or deep in thought because he didn’t speak again until they were in the basement. 

“You can put your clothes through the wash here,” he said. “I need to clean up and see what I can do about tonight.”

“Appreciated,” Rorschach said, formal again. “But I have a lead to follow.”

“Nothing so bad that having to explain why you’re covered in the blood of a murder victim won’t make it worse,” Dan said over his shoulder as he started up the stairs. It sounded weirdly light-hearted, but Rorschach could detect the distress under it. The kitchen door shut and he heard the lock turn again. Probably just force of habit, or Dan really might not want any company. Rorschach checked his own appearance and decided that he wasn’t bloody enough to matter. He started back down the tunnel.


	5. Chapter 5

There was entirely too many level of bureaucracy involved in things likes this Rorschach mused as walked to the fifth stop of the day. The child they had rescued that night had been shuffled through a lot of red tape. He had been taken to a hospital and had been so wild that they had sedated him to examine him for injuries. Aside from some malnutrition, he had seemed unharmed, but once awake had shown no ability to speak and no response to several languages tried on him.

The other employees from the shop had been questioned and they said they had been told the child was impaired, born blind and deaf and let run wild as an animal. That’s why he had been caged, to keep him away from the machines and from attacking the workers. They all denied knowing who his parents were and where he had come from. He had been sent to a hospital, a sanitarium really. The kids at Charlton had told ghost stories about it. There was always someplace worse you could be.

It took most of the afternoon to find that out and get there. The woman behind the desk was old before her time, but holding up as best she could with bright colors and lots of plants.

“Words out already, huh?” she sighed as soon as she saw him. He didn’t want to give away not knowing so he just made one of his noises, and she jerked a thumb toward the elevator. “Third floor and to the left.” He went. It was easy to see what she had meant. There was police tape across the hall. The vertical window in the door had been smashed outwards and judging by the blood, something that didn’t quite fit had crammed itself through.

Blood on the floor and scuffled prints, too smeared to definitely say they weren’t from bare feet, ran down the hallway to another broken window. Rorschach glanced inside the room, saw the clinical white spotted with bloody handprints and stuffing from a torn pillow. He crept to the far window and looked out. Three stories up, it would be a nasty fall onto the gravel for a child, maybe even fatal, but having seen Daniel on the move it was easy to imagine a smaller version doing a lap around the room for momentum and then smashing itself through.

No publicity, of course. No one cared that much about a lost child, especially a nameless one that could disappear as easily as he had been found. He probably wasn’t considered dangerous to anyone but himself. Rorschach went back down stairs.

“How did a blind boy get out of a fenced yard?” he asked the woman. She was being careful not to look up from her work this time.

“Blind as I am,” she said. “Light and dark were about the only things he would respond to.”

“Where would he go?”

“An impaired kid, new to the country, cut all to hell and probably with a few broken bones?” She pretended to think about it, and finally met his gaze. “If he isn’t dead in the streets, somebody has him. And if he hasn’t been checked into a hospital by now, they probably don’t have his best interests at heart. Watch the morgues.”

Rorschach couldn’t find a hole in that logic without mentioning werewolves, so he grunted and started outside. No need to warn her. The child wasn’t likely to come back here. But where would he go? Back to the sweat shop? Maybe, if that was the only place he knew. There were still a few hours until sunset, he might be able to make it if he cheated a little.

So, a little later, in civilian disguise, he had panhandled some subway fare and made his way back to the building that had housed the sweat shop last month. It was still empty, police tape still fluttering around the doors. One of the back doors was open. He smelled the blood before he saw it, more little hand and footprints in the filth. In the back corner, under a table, there were signs of feeding, bloody clothes torn to rags, stains on the floor, an ear with enough piercings to render it inedible, and a clump of hair. One less Top-knot in the world, apparently.

He searched the building, but only found more blood and a backroom with a worse mess than Daniel’s tub. There was still Daniel to deal with. The light was getting weak. He still had his flashlight, but he didn’t want to be here alone in the dark and he didn’t want Daniel left alone either. He hurried out, back into the last hour of daylight.

He had to stop for his costume, and that meant he barely got to the brownstone in time. He could hear clanging down in the basement and found Daniel working on the old security gate that used to block the tunnel. He had bent it around to block a corner and bent the tops down like fishhooks. 

“Thought you would lock yourself up in the ship,” Rorschach said and Daniel looked up at him. He looked awful, sweat-soaked and pale. 

“That’s for you,” he panted. “So even if I do get out, you can see. No time to argue,” he said as Rorschach began to do just that. “C-come lock me in. Was going to weld it, but there’s just no time.”

He stepped into the corner and pulled the door to seal himself in. Then he turned to face the wall, leaning on his arms. Rorschach hesitated another minute, then hurried over to fasten the series of padlocks.

“This won’t hold you,” he said. 

“I changed the emergency latch on Archie,” Dan said. “When you close it, turn it to the left. That way I can’t open it until you turn it back. Just in case I remember.” He was breathing hard, maybe from the stress of trying to get done before the sunset, maybe from having his lungs expanding. “Rorschach …?”

“I’ll go when you start changing,” Rorschach said. Fear was a tangible thing in the air now. They both knew what was coming. He hesitated, shuffling from foot to foot, trying to think of what to say. “Could… might help if you aren’t alone.”

Daniel finally turned to look at him. He half-laughed and covered his flushed face with his hands.

“Unless it makes it worse,” he whimpered. “Do you have any idea what you smell like?”

Rorschach was taken aback until he realized it wasn’t an insult. He had blood on him, he realized, blood from the last kill that Daniel hadn’t gotten to finish. Dan leaned into the barred gate.  
　  
“Look at you,” he moaned. “You’re so perfect and I could ruin it all. I could tear you apart and I want to, I do, just to hear you scream and see the layers come off, all your straight lines shattered, and everything you wouldn’t show ripped into too many pieces to hide anymore. 

“Daniel…”

“I want to. I want to feel you well up under my teeth. I want to taste you.”

“No,” Rorschach was shaking his head. He felt frozen. Daniel hadn’t grown so much as a whisker and he was already terrifying. “That isn’t you talking. You’re changing.”

“Unless I’m not.” Dan’s eyes were too bright and he was shaking. “Maybe I’m just becoming more of what I already was. More of what I already wanted. More of you.”

“Stop!” Rorschach hadn’t been fast enough to interrupt that last sentence and it burned in his ears, made him prickle under his layers. “You’re delirious. Feverish. Can see the signs from here.”

“I know…” Dan hung his head. “I… I need something. Rorschach? Help me. I need-” He struggled for a word. 

“What?” Rorschach still hadn’t been able to move. 

“It doesn’t feel real,” Dan whimpered. “It’s like everything is shifting around me instead of me. It’s like melting and I can’t… I want-” He suddenly snapped back into focus. “Touch me.”

Rorschach froze all over again. “What?”

“Nothing feels real! I can hear everything and smell everything and the colors are all changing but none of it’s tangible! It’s like a dream before the monster shows up and the monster is me. Touch me. L-let me touch you. “

Rorschach stared at him a full minute before approaching carefully. Dan reached for him like child and he paused again out of reach. 

“Daniel,” he began, but was suddenly seized and yanked close. How had Dan been able to do that?? His eyes had gone even brighter, feral gold blazing away the natural brown. Rorschach heard a puncturing sound as a tooth stabbed through the lapel nearest his throat. 

“And it’s just. That. Easy.” Daniel growled into his ear. There was a adrenaline-dazed moment where Rorschach was hyper-aware of the warm breath over his neck and his jaw and his ear, up over his jaw and the warmer lap of a tongue over the mask’s surface. Maybe he jerked free or maybe Daniel shoved him out of reach again. Either way, his back hit the wall and they were both breathing hard when their eyes met again. 

“What’s the matter with you?” Dan hissed. “Stay. Away.”


	6. Chapter 6

Rorschach had promised to go to Archie when the change began, but when it happened, it took him a long time to remember how to move. The sounds Dan made, groans of pain and need and desperation, kept him rooted to the spot, even after the creak and squelch of shifting bones and muscle drowned them out. The bones changed first, tearing out of Dan’s flesh as his joints realigned and his spine lengthened. Rorschach saw points stab out of his back as the spine changed and his ribcage burst outwards like a horrible flower to seal itself again in a larger frame.

He didn’t get to see the face change because the spinal transformation doubled Dan over. He did see the shoulder blades tear through the skin and steeple themselves, forcing Dan down to all fours. There was an especially anguished scream and then the roiling skin was bristling with spikes that gradually relaxed into hair. Dan was pulled upright again by the twisting muscles and he wailed as everything slammed into place inside him. He contorted in pain and then dropped down to all fours and gave himself a shake. 

Rorschach felt his legs quiver. He wanted to run, but couldn’t. If he ran it would chase him, he was sure of it all the way to his bones. He couldn’t tell if the creature was panting from the effort of the change or that was his own breath wheezing. The creature checked, disoriented, which made sense. It tried to turn and didn’t have much room. The gate rattled and it snarled and then turned to face Rorschach. There was half a heartbeat of eye contact and then it exploded. 

It was like watching a grizzly bear throw a tantrum. The gate was being shaken so hard the bent-over top prongs were gouging the cement walls. The series of padlocks was holding for now but the sound of metal grating was like a train coming. The thing was roaring at him, howling and snarling. It was a furious storm of noise that had him finally backing away towards Archie. He couldn’t stand the sound, was tempted to bolt up the stairs and get far away from it, but the same instinct that warned him against running promised him he wouldn’t get far. 

Archie then. As awful as it was to turn his back on the berserker, he turned to hurry to the ship. The noise stopped. The gate went still. Rorschach looked over his shoulder, still inching toward Archie. It had gone completely still and it wasn’t looking at him. It was looking down the tunnel. He saw the wet nostrils flare wide, heard the huff of its breathing. 

It could smell him. He was suddenly intensely aware of how long it had been since he had showered or laundered his costume. There was still the dried blood on it and there was his own blood, pounding frantic in his ears and throat, so loudly that the thing in the cage couldn’t help but hear it and smell it and wonder what it tasted like. 

Now that it was still, he forced himself to look at it. It was big. Daniel was strapping normally, now he was bigger than any human Rorschach had ever seen, all shoulders and jaws. He was brown, close to his normal hair color, flecked with darker colors over his chest and belly. He was on all fours, but the front appendages were too long-fingered and agile to be called paws.

It growled, a low warning sound and Rorschach felt himself prickle. His head swiveled to follow its gaze and there was something in the tunnel. It moved low to the ground, slinking forward quickly. It came toward the light, taking shape, still crouched low, much smaller and scrawnier than Dan, but the same general outline. It was an unkempt black with an off-kilter tilt to its head. It was following his tracks, Rorschach realized, maybe had followed him all the way from the sweat shop. He staggered back, colliding with the work table, and it raised its head to look at him. Maybe it was partially blind after all.

It stepped into the light and crouched lower as if the light hurt it. As soon as it was in sight, the creature that had been Daniel exploded into a frenzy. The small one snarled in his direction and then charged Rorschach. It looked smaller and unhealthier, but it moved like a panther. Rorschach scrambled away, knocking over the unfinished exoskeleton. The thing was on him so quickly that he didn’t have time to get to Archie. He grabbed the exoskeleton and rolled to put it between him and the lunging werewolf. 

It hit him hard, its weight driving the skeleton into him and pinning him to the floor. It was snarling and snapping at him, trying to wedge its head between the iron ribs to reach him. He felt the claws tear at his arms and legs. It was slinging him back and forth, dragging him across the floor. He could see its eyes, black as night, squinting at him. It yanked its head free and then screamed at him, spraying him with bloodied slobber. 

There was another scream, this time tearing metal, and then the creature that had been Daniel was loose. It hadn’t been the locks that had given after all, but the joints in the gate. It crossed the Nest in two full-body strides and tackled the smaller beast off of Rorschach. He had time to see Dan’s teeth closing on the black head before the combined weight of both animals crushed him senseless. 

He had fallen once on patrol, only a few stories but had landed badly, and the impact, followed by the dazed panic was the same as this. The metal skull of the exoskeleton had smashed into his and stars fizzled around his vision. He lay stunned for a moment, distantly processing the tearing, shrieking battle as background noise. It occurred to him as his head cleared that he hadn’t made it to Archie yet. He tried to dislodge the skeleton but his mauled arms weren’t as strong as he was sure they should be. 

The black werewolf’s head smacked into the pavement right next to his, making him recoil. The impact snapped one of its fangs. Rorschach saw it go skittering by him and then there was the flash of more teeth as Dan bit down into its throat. It gurgled, spraying blood as that mouthful was ripped out of its neck. Rorschach saw a flash of spine in the gaping wound and Dan’s claws sank into the chest on either side and then broke the ribcage open. 

A final, drowning gurgle rattled out of the black werewolf and it went limp. Dan was already eating. With the ribs cracked open, he buried his face in the still-heaving guts. Something hot enough to feel through the mask splashed Rorschach’s ear. He had to lay there and watch as the shuddering body slowly shrank back into the form of an unwashed child. The change didn’t trouble Dan. If anything, it made the body easier to tear into. 

Rorschach felt his head spin again and made another attempt to get the metal skeleton of himself. If Dan could just focus on eating, he might still be able to seal himself up in Archie. A clumsy shove and a squirm and he had his upper body free. Dan snarled at him, but kept eating. Food took priority at first. Good to know. But the chase could begin again at any moment. 

Rorschach lurched up to his knees and heard another growl. He didn’t want to stand up and draw more attention to himself, wasn’t even sure his legs would hold him. There were gashes over both of them, bleeding badly. Archie’s hatch was maybe fifteen feet away. He crawled while the wet sounds of hunger went on behind him. His head was still spinning. There was a dampness under the mask. Hopefully it was blood and not spilled ink. He would heal by himself, the mask wouldn’t. Either way, he felt concussed, nauseous and reeling. 

Ten feet now. Something crunching and the slap of a foot in a puddle. He couldn’t keep his thoughts together. Even if he got inside, could he stand up to reach the latch? Seven feet. Five. Almost there. Something moving, not quickly. Why hurry after all? His palm slapped down on the bottom step. Almost there. His other hand gripped the edge of the doorway. His fingers were inside. One more body length. 

Something grabbed his ankle. He was yanked back so hard his temple bounced off the top step and his last conscious thought was the sensation of being dragged across the floor.


	7. Chapter 7

It was a blur. _nonono_ It couldn’t be happening. _no_ It had already happened. Some of it he had seen in nightmares before. He hadn’t really seen anything but the aftermath, the burned fabric, the wet bones, but he had imagined it. Tiny limbs, jerking, then still. _please no_ Bright eyes going flat. Overlaid with the image of the dead boy, torn open, teeth flashing. _Not again_. 

The beast raised its head to look at him and it was the girl’s face, just like her photo, smiling shyly under the mask of blood. _stop_ The German shepherds fighting over a carcass, too big to be a child, and in the furnace, a cracked pair of goggles, charred down to frames. _No!_ The dogs had the faces of both children and as soon as they had finished Daniel, they would turn on each other. They both knew it. _can’t_

He couldn’t breath. _help_ He was choking on the smell of blood,gasoline, and ash. _no_ He felt teeth against his throat and accepted it. _fine_ He’d take her place, die in the dark and let her go home. It was a fair trade. Innocence could be spared and whatever he was could be over. _finally_

Everything hurt. Everything stank. He was smothering and was glad because the suffocation was blacking out the images. The burned holes, the black eyes, the charred bones, all the darkness rolling over his eyelids like the ink from his face. 

Sensation cut through the haze. Something fluttered around his head like butterflies, barely touching him. Then, it sank in claws and tore his face away from the bone. He tried to scream, gurgled, and plunged in cold water. He could hear himself beg to wake up, please wake up! before he realized that it wasn’t his voice at all. 

Pain snapped through his head, and it was a familiar one. He had cracked broken noses back into place before. Reliving past injuries as blood flow stopped to his brain? Could be. Something grated. Something popped. This pain was blanketed in icy cold, intensifying, searing into his flayed skull. The voice that wasn’t his was babbling now, begging and sniveling. 

“comebacktomemanI‘msorryI’msorrysosorryohgodbeokpleasebeokwakeupwakeuppleaseI’msosorrysaysomething!RorschachohgodcanyouhearmeI’mhererightheregodI’msorryI’msorryI’msorry-“

His eyes wouldn’t open and the pain had him in a net. Something forced itself into his mouth and he would’ve bitten down, but his jaw wouldn’t work either. Small and smooth and down his throat while the gibbering voice promised it would help. That’s when he knew he was being lied to. There was no help, and the fact that it was being offered meant he wasn’t dead. _No._ He wasn’t dreaming. _No!_

“Don’t touch me!” the words wrenched out of him and he threw an arm out. Something caught it. He struggled to get his eyes open and was beginning to recognize the sensation of black eyes as well. That meant the cold was probably an ice pack. He thrashed and vertigo sent him reeling until he was grabbed.

“I have to,” the voice said. He recognized it too now, under all the misery. “I have to. You’re hurt.“

“Daniel…” The last syllable hurt and nausea made him cough, which hurt worse. 

“You’re busted up pretty bad,” Dan’s voice was still too high, too full of shame, but he was taking a breath in between words now. “Your head’s bashed, nose was broken, and your jaw was out of place. Needed some stitches. You’ve, you’ve lost some blood.”

“Hnhh…”

“I don’t know what happened! I don’t know! I found you like this. God! Why, why weren’t you in the ship?” His voice rose and anger leaked in. “What the hell is wrong with you that you didn’t get in the ship??”

Rorschach didn’t have an answer for that. The blackness still covered his mind. He could sense the shapes of his nightmare under the black, but he couldn’t tell what they were and the horror lingered. 

“Monsters,” he moaned. He felt Dan sigh against his cheek.

“I know,” he said. 

 

It was days before Rorschach was awake enough to get up and go look for food. It was dark out, and when he passed a window, his own reflection stopped him. His face was gone, leaving only a battered, bandaged mask. Emotions flickered and sputtered like weak flames. Betrayal. Daniel had stripped him bare. Resignation. Of course he had. There were stitches in his brow, bandages everywhere and black bruises in between. What else had Dan been supposed to do? Fear. There was nowhere left to hide from either of them now. Too much had been seen and torn to shreds and his usual convictions and confidence lay in pieces with it. 

He limped downstairs, feeling tight lines in his legs that had to be stitches. The kitchen was empty, but the basement door was open. He didn’t want to go down there again, but recognized the impulse as childish and walked to the doorway anyway. The lights were on. The floor was clean. 

“Made something for you,” Daniel’s voice drifted up. “Come on down.” Rorschach hesitated, then set his jaw which throbbed angrily, making him wince, and started carefully down the stairs. He had dragged himself up and down them with injuries several times over the years. He told himself that this was no different. 

Dan was sitting at his table. He had Rorschach’s trench coat, suit jacket, and gloves folded on one side. Rorschach could see that they had been stitched together as carefully as he had. His grappling gun was there too. There were three new hooks made for it, obviously made of silver. Dan was sorting through some papers without looking up. 

“I won’t look if you don’t want me to,” he said. “But I want you to write your name on this. I won’t look at it either, if that’s what you want. It’s my will,” he said when Rorschach didn’t speak. “I’m leaving you the house and property. Hollis is on here, too. He’s the only other one that will see it.”

“What are you doing?” Rorschach finally asked. 

“Getting my affairs in order,” Dan said. “I have a month, but why wait.”

“Don’t want your house.”

“Sell it. I’ve gotten all kinds of offers for Archie over the years too, from aeronautic schools and private collectors. That’ll keep you in sugar cubes and newspapers for life.”

“Not funny.”

“Not laughing,” Dan snapped, then sighed. “Can I look up?”

“Nothing to hide now.” So he did. There were dark circles under his eyes. Rorschach wasn’t sure how many days he had lost, but it didn’t look like Dan had slept for any of them. “You plan on dying.”

“If I have to,” Dan said. “I didn’t find any bites on you, just claw marks. There was a few nips in your mask, so I put it in the fridge. You said it reacts to heat, so I thought in the cold, it might be still and leak less. I was afraid I’d make a mistake fixing it.“ His voice went dry. “You’d never forgive me for that.”

They were both quiet for awhile. Rorschach stepped closer to pick to the nearest new grappling hook. It was sharper edged and had no cable. It was a projectile. 

“Expect me to turn this on you?” he asked. It came out as more a challenge than he meant. 

“If you’d had it before, you might not be this hurt,” Dan said. 

“Wasn’t you, Daniel,” he said, letting the edge dig into his finger a little. No unusual pain flared. Maybe he really hadn’t been bitten. “Was the boy.”

Clubbing Dan over the head wouldn’t have produced such a shocked look. Rorschach raised an eyebrow and ignored how badly that movement hurt. 

“Escaped the hospital first night of the full moon. Tracked him back to the sweat shop, but lost him there. Must’ve been watching. Must’ve followed me back. Showed up a little after you changed. Didn’t make it to Archie before he had me.”

“But…No…I! T-that would mean-”

“Defended your territory, Daniel. Fought and killed him. Once dead, he turned back.”

“You- you’re telling me,” Dan gasped. “I killed and ATE that little boy??” His horror was a comfort and Rorschach was ashamed of it almost at once. 

“Saved me,” he said to make up for it. “I don’t remember much of it, but remember that.”

They argued. Dan was upset, near hysterical, and Rorschach found he had no patience for it. 

“Found you face down in a puddle of blood with your ink on my chin,” Dan wailed. “You were still for so long and when you did wake up, all you would say was "monster"! What was I supposed to think??“

“Didn’t bite any deeper. Said so yourself. Didn’t mean you either. Too soft to be a monster.” There was just enough contempt there to startle his partner. He reached for his repaired clothes and Dan caught his arm. Despite the new horror, he was fighting for control over himself, and there was cold resolve in his face. 

“Sign this first,” he said, pushing the papers over. Rorschach started to protest and Dan cut him off. “No more surprises. Everything taken care of. If the worst happens, it‘s taken care of too.” Rorschach still hesitated and Dan’s voice fell to a growl. “Humor me.” They glared at each other for a moment, Rorschach braced to refuse until his stomach growled and pain spiked through his head. Fortune did favor the prepared. Hollis wouldn’t recognize his name and if Dan put it straight into the envelope, it might never see daylight again. So, he made an exasperated noise and reached for the pen. Dan relaxed then. 

“Let’s get you fed,” he sighed. “Get your strength back.” He stuffed the paper in the envelope without looking at it and then locked it in the bottom drawer of his desk. 

“Hollis has the other key,” he said. 

“Intend to kill yourself?” Rorschach had to ask as they started toward the stairs. He wobbled unsteadily and had to grab the railing so he could shrug off Dan’s hand when it reached to help him. “Expected better.”

“Do you?” Dan snapped back. ‘Why would you hang around and watch when you were supposed to be getting to safety?”

“…happened quickly,” Rorschach admitted after a minute. Getting up the stairs was taking longer than it should have. “Shocking.” He almost said ‘beautiful‘, but Dan stopped to glare at him and seemed honestly angry, which Rorschach realized he didn’t have the energy to return. He settled for “Hard to move.” 

He had stopped on the stairs and clutched the burning pain in his thigh. “Froze. So strong, Daniel, but didn’t break the gate until the younger one came.”

“Jesus, are you bleeding?” Dan turned him to check his leg. Rorschach swayed. 

“You didn’t hurt me,” he said. “Even when I was easy meat, you didn’t. Plenty of humans would have. You, you can’t die, Daniel…”

“I don’t want to!” Dan said, running a hand into his hair. “Come on, I’ll make us some soup.”

With his help, Rorschach made it back to the kitchen table. Dan heated up some chicken noodle soup and set some buttered bread in the broiler. 

“There’s another Crimebusters meeting coming up in a few days,” he said after a few minutes. “I’ve considered asking the others for help, but, I…” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t want them to know.”

“Won’t tell,” Rorschach promised.

“No, buddy, that’s not what I mean,” sighed Dan, passing a bowl and a plate of toast. “They might be able to help, might know something, but I don’t -”

“Ozymandias will start calling you Anubis,” Rorschach mused. “Comedian will laugh. Until he sees for himself.”

“I don’t want him to see! The fact that Jon hasn’t intervened already probably means I never tell him,” Dan added, then sighed again. “Guess I should start building a better cage.” 

“Seems a waste,” Rorschach muttered around a mouthful. He dipped the next piece in the soup. “To keep that power contained.”

“I’m going to let that go because you have head trauma,” Dan told him. 

“Always holding back, Daniel.”

“Yeah well.. soft or not, I can’t be allowed to eat the people I try to protect the other 27 nights a month.“ 

“Don’t allow it then.”

“It’s not that easy, man.”

“I’ll help.” That was a lot of pronouns for Rorschach, so Dan had to be grateful.


	8. Chapter 8

They decided to attend the Crimebusters meeting at the end of the week. Rorschach was healed enough that his body language was back to normal as long as he didn’t exert himself. They had been out of the loop since the full moon and had missed a major drug bust. They were asked where they had been, but only Comedian made an issue of it, getting up to blow cigar smoke in Nite Owl’s face and make lewd suggestions about how they were spending their time. Rorschach responded angrily, but Nite Owl didn’t budge. 

Comedian had a few inches on him and was trying to loom, but it wasn’t working. Nite Owl wasn’t doing his usual awkward shift to the side or his patented, uncomfortable ‘oh come on’ look. He just tilted his head slightly to keep eye contact and let the silence grow pointed. Comedian had enough animal in him to recognize the threat, but it was from an unlikely enough source that it threw him for a minute. 

“Must’ve taken time off to finally grow that spine, huh?” he asked, settling down in his chair. 

“You are what you eat,” Nite Owl said, getting a round of puzzled looks from everyone but Rorschach who had become very interested in his own gloves. There was a touch of rumble under the words, but Nite Owl looked too nonchalant to alert anyone else. The rest of the meeting went by uneventfully and he swept out in an ominous sweep of cape. Rorschach followed. 

“Given the sweat shop some thought,” he said as the engines came to life. “Someone must know something.” They lifted off, catching the flicker of blue as Manhattan left too. 

“Is that a priority now?” Dan asked. “The poor kid is dead after all. “

“Other priorities? Have your new cage built.”

“Had the old one built too. I’m still considering sealing up Archie. Make some panels, you know, cover anything that could be damaged, remove the chairs… I just really don’t know if I can stand the smell.”

“?”

“You weren’t there for the last two aftermaths.” Dan looked a little sheepish. “I can eat a lot more in that form than I can hold when I turn back. It has to go somewhere and I don’t know if they make a solvent that take care of that every month.” 

“Hrnh,“ Rorschach agreed. He had hoped that was getting better after the first night. “Don’t mention that in the stories.”

“Yeah, I’ve been researching those. Not many of the them consider the werewolves point of view,” Nite Owl said. “But I did find one that made me wonder… There was a story about a young man who was bitten very young and his family, his whole village, worked around it. They had a full moon curfew for people and livestock and nobody unbarred the doors until sunrise. He grew up, got married, and lived pretty happily. He had a signal to knock on the door to let his wife know his mind had returned and she could let him in.”

“And?”

“Well, it worked for a year, but then one morning before sunrise she thought she heard the signal knock and opened the door too soon. He killed her and their new baby and when he realized what he had done the next day, he went to the church. He made his confessions and then hung himself.”

“… Did that work? Normal wounds don’t seem to trouble you much.”

“Doesn’t say. All these stories stop just short of being actually useful.”

They both mulled that over in silence awhile. 

“Smacks of treachery,” Rorschach said suddenly. Dan just made a questioning sound. “Someone wanted rid of him. Or her. Maybe old suitor couldn’t stand being thrown over for a wolfman. Best way to be rid of both. Knock on the door and let them take care of each other.”

“I don’t think it was meant to be a murder mystery,” Dan almost chuckled, impressed in spite of himself. Rorschach just grunted. 

“Girl knew better. Lives at stake.”

“Maybe she thought she was safe because he loved her,” Dan said. “Maybe she believed she was somehow exempt.”

Rorschach started to say something but caught himself and shifted awkwardly in his chair while Dan waited for him to spit it out. It wasn’t like him to censor himself, but long minutes ticked by with nothing.

“What?”

“Irrelevant.”

“Uh-huh. Just remember those hooks I made you. I expect you to save yourself by any means necessary if it comes to it.”

“Had me helpless and didn’t,” Rorschach reminded him. 

“Maybe that stuff in your mask just tastes terrible,” Dan snapped. Goosebumps had broken out over his arms and he felt the hairs tingle and imagined them growing longer and thicker. “You can’t take that chance. People keep wild animals as pets for years sometimes before it turns on them and whatever it is I become, it has never been anyone’s pet.”

Rorschach made another thoughtful sound and Dan considered hitting him. Or at least calling him a stubborn maniac. As much as it warmed him to know that Rorschach, for whatever reason, was determined to believe in him, he didn‘t know if he could stand to wake up to find he had destroyed that, and was all too aware of how little control he would have over the situation. He wasn’t sure how to explain that. 

“I want you to know,” he finally said. “To understand what it means to me that you aren’t afraid of me, but I also need you to understand that you should be. As much as I’m flattered to be the exception to your blistering distrust of everything, it also pains me to imagine betraying that trust. I don’t trust myself not to betray you, as sick as the thought makes me.”

Rorschach didn’t answer, just looked back at him behind the blots. Dan tried one more time. 

“I am not allowed to hurt you. You have to stop me if I try.”

“Understood,” Rorschach said, but he still sounded smug and Dan’s jaw was clenched tight as they moved in to land on the sweat shop’s roof. 

The sweat shop was still dark and empty. Rorschach saw Nite Owl’s nostrils flare wide at the smell of the boy’s lair. The bloodied nest under the back table was dried brown now, and the steady wave of stench from the back room hadn’t lifted. Rorschach walked around to the stairs, heading for the main office rooms. Nite Owl didn’t follow him right away, but his boot steps were heard on the steps as Rorschach pried the lock open. 

“You really think there’ll be any files on the kid?” Nite Owl’s voice was low, even though there was no one to hear in the empty building. 

“Maybe the ship he arrived on,” Rorschach led the way in. “It’s a long trip. See if there were any deaths on the way, or if this happened at home. Imagine being trapped at sea with someone bitten. They knew to keep him contained.”

“I don’t think he was ever a normal child,” Nite Owl said. “Being… being bitten didn’t make him like that. A child spoken to and touched and fed every day doesn’t act like that, even if there’s something else wrong. The screaming and fighting and the fear of the light? M-maybe he was, you know…“

“Hospital believed him to be blind and deaf,” Rorschach said, already rooting through the file cabinet. Nite Owl started on the desk. “Didn’t have any trouble seeing me, though. But, you’re right. An impaired child in an underdeveloped country? Wouldn’t have much chance.”

He made a frustrated sound and threw the files down. Nite Owl looked and saw that they were all written with Asian characters. He wasn’t even sure of the country. 

“Look for dates and signatures,” he suggested. “We can check with Harbor Authority.” 

“What’s the point?” he asked after a few minutes. “You have a plan?”

“Too many unknowns,” Rorschach growled. “Odds of there being only one seem slim.”

“Honestly, I’m the unknown I’m worried about,” Nite Owl sighed. “Feels like I should be concentrating on making sure the problem isn’t me before looking for more trouble.”

“Can’t do anything about that for weeks,” Rorschach said it casually. Nite Owl glared at him, but he didn’t look up.

“I was thinking,” Nite Owl said, after another long rummage through the desk drawers. “What I should do if I ever did bite someone. Seems hypocritical to kill them, even if it is cleaning up after myself. Maybe the whole Canada thing isn’t such a-”

His voice trailed off. Rorschach looked up and saw him looking at a file held together with binder clips. Inside was a catalog page with pictures of the boy from different angles. He was cleaner in the photos, but still thin and snarling. His hair had been shaved, which meant that enough time had passed to grow the matted mop they had seen on him. There was information on each photo. Neither of them could read what the writing said, but they could see the currency marks.

“Buying, selling a kid like that, but for what and why?” Nite Owl’s voice rose. “This isn’t the usual- these aren’t for-”

“No,” Rorschach agreed as much as the loathing that choked him would allow. They had broken child prostitution and human trafficking rings before. This felt entirely different. There was something alien staring back from the photocopies. The child had looked better as a monster. More natural anyway.

“Why bring him here?” Nite Owl was talking to himself now, flipping through the finger-smudged pages. “Why-” He broke off again as he turned to a page with a receipt stapled to it. There was an illegible signature on it, and the name of the ship. 

“Ceres,” Rorschach read aloud. “Out of Stade. “ He tilted his head, maybe reviewing his geography. “Was months ago. Could be anywhere by now.” 

“Can’t outrun Archie,” Nite Owl said. “We’ll see what harbor authority can tell us and track them down.” The rumble under his words was back and Rorschach gathered up what files he thought might be relevant or incriminating and had to jog to keep up with his partner back to the roof.


	9. Chapter 9

A robbery and hostage situation had diverted them from the hunt for a few hours and it had been a relief to Rorschach to be able to hit something. It was a pleasant change to face something that could be fixed with brute force. Rorschach took down a gunman and felt crackling pain light up in the deep creases of his injuries. He braced himself for the next attack and was grudgingly relieved to see that his partner had exploded into a storm of punishment on the remaining thieves. 

There was a spray of blood as a punch that would’ve made Nite Owl’s mentor proud dislocated a jaw and the damp crunch of a kneecap being kicked hard enough to reverse the joint. A gun was fired, but at the floor as the arm was bent away and broken. When the police burst in, Nite Owl had turned to face them so fiercely that Rorschach had wondered for a second if he would attack them as well. Nite Owl was clearly not finished fighting. Luckily, the first wave through the door had the sense to stop and give the panting hero some berth. 

Nite Owl wasn’t inclined to stay if there was no one he could pummel and swept back to the ship. Rorschach followed close on his heels, half expecting him to turn suddenly and grab him by the collar, they way he had that night, and roar something furious and hungry into his face. He was apprehensive without being nervous. Eventually, it would happen. Not tonight. The moon was in balance tonight, half and half. The violence was shining through, but was still tempered. 

They went to on to the harbor authority. This late at night, there was only a skeleton crew, and no one there had the authority and backbone to stare down Nite Owl. Files were produced. Information was given. 

The Ceres had sat in quarantine in Guyana for weeks after losing half their crew to some form of flu. They had hired on new men once they were given a clean bill of health. When they had arrived in New York, most of the crew had deserted, including the captain and the owners had flown in from Germany to reacquire their property and oversee getting it back on task. It had been a nightmare of red tape and the remaining crew had been set up camp in the office’s break room and emptied the coffee supply, vending machine, and toilet paper before they had been shipped out again. 

The shipment had been mostly machinery and parts, with some sugar and rice. Nothing out of the ordinary there. By then, the sun was up, and exhaustion was taking its toll. Even Archie was drained, so Nite Owl had found a safe place to land where they could recharge out of sight. He blinked at Rorschach, Daniel coming into focus through the disguise. 

“Do… You have someplace you have to be this morning?” he asked Rorschach. “I’d… rather you stayed with me, but I’ll drop you off if you want.” 

“Captive audience, Daniel?” Rorschach asked, not missing the sheepish wince. “What’s wrong?”

“You always take off as soon as we get back,” Dan sighed. “And things always seem to be worse when you’re gone.” He trailed off, fidgeted with his gloves and then looked up. “I’d rather rest here and then keep going. Will you stay with me?”

There were a dozen indignant, scathing things to say to that, and at least as many reasons to say no. The memory of Dan’s feverish voice desperate to taste him still flickered through his mind when he was trying to keep his thoughts quiet. It was unsettling, and his earlier premonition came back to him too. How much longer would it be safe to be contained with Daniel this way? To sleep in his reach?

But it was hard to find fault with him for not wanting to waste time. Going home, the meals, the showers, the mugs of coffee, the changing clothes, all ate up hours that could be better spent, especially since they were on a timeline now. 

“Have slept in chair before,” he finally said, giving in. Dan’s smile was relieved, like a child when the hall light is left on. Instead of settling down in his own chair, he dimmed the windows and started making himself a nest in the back. He offered a spare cape, the flame retardant one, to Rorschach and then settled down in the floor. 

He relaxed with a low, content sound and was asleep in no time. Rorschach watched until the sun warmed the whole metal ship into a drowsy haze before he also dozed off.

 

It was too hot. Too dark to see and too hot to breathe. He was slick with sweat, clothes soaked with it. He started pulling off layers, desperate to get cool air in, but there didn’t seem to be any. The trench coat was thrown open, the gloves yanked off. It was so hot it hurt, and the only way out was to get out from under all these layers. He knocked off his hat and pulled the mask halfway up. It wasn’t enough, so he had to pull it all the way off. Sweat streamed out from under it. 

His hands were shaking as he tried to get his shirt unbuttoned. As soon as it opened, his intestines spilled out in a hot, wet blanket over his legs. He gaped at it, and then recognized the taste. It wasn’t sweat he was covered with; it was blood. He collapsed on his back. He could hear his own harsh, hysterical breathing sputtering around the blood welling up in his throat. He gagged on it, spitting out a mouthful. There was no point in screaming. He was done for. Obviously. 

A weight pinned him down by the shoulder and a dark shape blocked out what little light there was. A tongue lapped at the blood trickling out of his mouth. Teeth scraped at his lips, an incisor caught and tore the skin, but it didn’t hurt. He was too far gone to hurt. The gnawing became kiss-like, the tongue flicking in to lap at his. He dimly remembered the commotion when one of his mother’s apartment building neighbors had died and been eaten by her little dog after a few days. Soft tissues first, eyes, lips and tongue. At least she had been dead to begin with. 

He choked again, maybe with fear, maybe just because of all the blood. His breath wheezed through his nose now. He was still burning up, the heat blistering, making his spilled intestines sizzle and bubble between them. The teeth caught again, in his tongue this time. He felt the tug, felt his neck lurch, heard the sound of something tearing and then he was falling. 

There was a thud and pain, real pain, through the stitches in his temple. He had fallen out of the chair. He was still panting, still soaked and hot under his clothes, but he was awake now. 

“Jesus,” someone said, and he jumped so hard he hit his head again when a hand grabbed his arm. “It’s ok. It’s just me. Settle down. It’s ok.” 

His vision cleared and he saw Dan bending over him. He gasped, tasting sweat this time. He felt feverish and sick, but Dan was shiny with sweat too, so hopefully it really was too hot and he wasn’t delirious. Dan was still talking. 

“-just a nightmare, and God, who can blame you?? I’m sorry, but here, come over here. I should’ve turned the air on already anyway. Archie conducts heat pretty well, huh? Here, it’s ok. Just lay under the vent. It’ll be cooler in a minute.”

Rorschach allowed himself to be pulled into Dan’s nest of capes and heard some switches being flipped. Air did beat down on him, sickly warm at first, but quickly cooling. Dan was there again, running hands over him. His voice was angry now, but it was directed inwards at himself.

“You’re still hurt too bad to be dragged around like this,” he muttered. Rorschach felt his face pulled off and clenched his eyes shut. The cool air on his skin was a sudden blast of bliss but then hot hands were on his injuries. “Shouldn’t have to do this. It’s my fault; it’s my mess. You’ve been wearing yourself out trying to help, getting yourself mauled, and dragged all over, when you should be in the hospital-“

“No.” Rorschach barked it without realizing. It was practically an involuntary reaction at that point and he heard the soft chuckle that meant Dan knew that too.

“I know,” Dan said. His hands were still busy opening buttons and letting more air in. “But. I’m going to get you a drink, and if you’re still this out of it, we’re going home.”

Rorschach kept expecting having his layers pulled away to hurt. His coat, suit coat, waistcoat, and dress shirt were all unbuttoned and peeled back and each one felt like it should be his skin. He waited for the pain, for the blood to well up and the intestines to pour out. All he really felt was Dan’s too-warm hands and the quickly becoming too-cool air conditioning. His undershirt had to be pulled over his head, which meant that all his sleeves would have to be pulled off his arms. Dan started on his gloves, and having his palms so suddenly bare made him ball his fists in Dan’s shirt. 

“You’re a mess,” Dan told him. “You sweated through every stitch of clothes you have on. You’re either sick or that must‘ve been a hell of a nightmare.” 

“Eaten alive,“ Rorschach rasped, shuddering. Dan didn’t move for a moment, then sighed and tried to ease the four top layers down his shoulder. Rorschach saw his mouth move like he kept changing his mind about what he could say to that. He stayed quiet though, so Rorschach used the grip in his clothes to shakily heave himself off the floor. 

“Easy,” Dan said. Rorschach’s still-bandaged nose bumped his chin and that hurt enough to make him grunt, but not enough to keep him from mouthing clumsily at Dan’s lips. Dan froze again, but Rorschach felt his pulse jump in his chest. His head was swimming and Dan tasted as much like sweat as his own mouth did. He closed his eyes and dragged his tongue over Dan’s mouth once, feeling it open, but not pressing any deeper. He let his head loll back and sank back to the floor again. For a minute there was no sound but the air vents and their breathing. 

“What was-” Dan started. His voice was breathless. “You. You shouldn’t-” Rorschach didn’t even bother to open his eyes. “M-might infect you.”

“Did that to me,” Rorschach said. “That night.” Dan was quiet and still again. Minutes ticked by and Rorschach started to shiver. Dan swore softly and slid an arm under him, lifting him enough to pull the coats and shirts off over his head. The suspenders got in the way and had to be pulled aside. That hurt a row of stitches in his side and Rorschach groaned. 

“You’re delirious,” Dan said. Rorschach wasn’t sure which part that was in reference too and didn’t feel like arguing. He felt Dan’s hands and breath on him, felt his boots and socks peeled off, had a sharp stab of panic when his belt and pants were fumbled with, and tried to curl away. Dan pushed him back and pulled them off, then pulled one of the spare capes over him. It was thick and slick to the touch, seemed to have sort of gel lining. What scenario had that been designed for?

Dan rummaged around somewhere and came back with lukewarm water, probably from the coffee maker. He tilted Rorschach’s head back and told him to swallow, started some lecture on how dangerous dehydration was. Rorschach drank as much as he could stand. It sat in his belly, sickly warm, made him imagine the splash when his torso popped like a balloon filled with guts. That made him gag a little and Dan let him lay back down. 

Rorschach wasn’t sure how long he had dozed there. There were no dreams this time. He hadn’t known that Dan was gone until he heard him coming back in. His head was tilted back again and a cold can was held to his lips. Before he could protest, he was given a sip of something fizzy. It might’ve been ginger ale or 7Up, but it had been too long for him to recognize it for sure, and the burn made him sputter. The nap had helped clear his head a little and he tried to elbow the cape off before he remembered he was all but naked. The gelatinous cape felt creepy on his bare skin, but he clutched it close anyway.

“Not an invalid,” he said, struggling to sit up.

“My mistake,” Dan almost sounded amused. Rorschach tried to glare, but it hurt the cuts in his head to scowl for long. Dan handed him the can. It was ginger ale after all. He considered refusing, but the fizz had cut through the sensation of crud in his throat, so he took it with only a small grumble. His head still felt a little loopy, but the dazed helplessness was gone. Dan also handed him a change of clothes that he blinked at for moment before realizing they were for him. 

There were some jeans, worn soft around the knees and the seat, a t-shirt with a logo he didn’t recognize, and a zip-up hooded sweatshirt, frayed along the cuffs and hem. They looked like they would fit, even if the jeans would be a little long. He drew breath to say that he already had clothes and Dan cut him off.

“Second hand store a few blocks down,” Dan said. “And enough dry cleaners between here and there that I could spread your suit out between them without any one recognizing it.” Outrage made Rorschach spin to face him and Dan caught his shoulders before he lost his balance. “Relax, they’ll be done in an hour or two, which will give us time to go eat. You’re still woozy.”

Rorschach wanted to scream at him, demand how dare he and hadn’t he done enough and maybe he actually did say it because Dan was suddenly much more intense, staring him down. Rorschach suddenly remembered that he was naked and weakened and could be easily dragged if it came to it. 

“Get dressed,” Dan said, and when he yanked the cape off, Rorschach really had no choice.


	10. Chapter 10

They didn’t look that out of place back on the street, Rorschach noticed as they passed a window. He didn’t like looking so casual, but Dan had probably picked the hooded jacket especially so that Rorschach could pretend he wasn’t unmasked, and it would also help cover some of the still lingering bruises and scabs on his face. Anyone who wondered how that had happened only had to look to the scowl and hostile body language to get their answer. Dan was wearing his spare clothes too, casual pants, shirt, and sweater. He pointed to some neon in a window down the block and Rorschach fell into step beside him. 

He was hungry, but he wouldn’t say so out loud. The drinks had helped, but he still felt rubbery and a second too late on all his reactions. Dan kept looking at him like he was expecting something different from one minute to the next. It was a little annoying, but Rorschach didn’t want to stir him up again. Evening wasn’t far off. The waxing moon would rise, maybe was already moving enough to tweak Dan’s senses. There was still enough light to give the street an orange cast.

As they got closer, he could see the diner sign said: Cold Turkey Subs & Sandwiches. He could smell baking bread and hot grease and couldn’t decide if it was heavenly or if it would make him sick. Dan’s hand on the small of his back steered him into the blast of air conditioning with a brassy jingle from the bell on the door. 

It was a little place with nondescript tiles and green-cushioned booths. Two other booths were occupied, so they aimed toward the farthest away one in the back corner. They both started for the side that would allow a view of the whole place, but Dan was a step ahead and Rorschach slumped grouchily in the other rather than squeeze in next to him. 

The seats were cool and the lights were pleasantly dim. They only had to sit for a moment before a waitress had hurried over with ice water and menus. Dan ordered them both large lemonades before Rorschach could puzzle over what to get and as soon as she had scampered off, shoved his ice water over to him. 

“You sweated yourself down to jerky in there,” he said. “Drink up and don’t argue. Please,” he added when Rorschach’s scowl threatened to reopen the wound in his brow. “You scared me today.” He opened his menu and started flipping through it to ignore Rorschach’s glare. Rorschach still hadn’t touched his menu when the girl came back with their lemonades, which could’ve filled a bucket between them. 

Dan ordered a chicken club with fries and then looked expectantly at Rorschach. So did the waitress. Rorschach quelled the panicked impulse to start pawing at the menu. He couldn’t see the chalkboard by the door to make out the special, didn’t remember what it said, which irritated him. He was supposed to be more observant than that. 

“Special,” he grumbled. She nodded pertly.

“Soup or fries?” He didn’t think he could stand to choose between soups, so he went with fries. She was gone with a swish of ponytail and he felt exhausted. Hoping the special wasn’t something horrible, he slumped carefully forward onto his elbows. He could feel Dan looking at him, but a whole minute ticked by before the question came. 

“I kissed you?” It was pitched soft enough that it wouldn’t carry beyond the booth. Rorschach didn’t look up, but felt his ears go red. He remembered his own shameful behavior back in Archie and was grateful all over again for the hood. 

“Weren’t yourself,” he said. Dan scoffed and Rorschach heard him squirming angrily on the seat, his restless hands on the tabletop, and his feet shuffling. 

“I think I was,” he said finally. He sounded almost defiant, and a little angry at them both. “Maybe not the best part of myself, but that was probably me.” 

Heat shot through Rorschach worse than the shame had, tightening his back and awakening a hundred little pains all through his injuries.

“Doesn’t matter,” he whispered.

“It might,” Dan said. There was something flat and fearful in his voice now and Rorschach risked a peek up at him from under the hood. “My bite got infected. I was feverish and flu-y for a day or two.” Rorschach raised his head to look at him now. “If… if it’s bloodborne, or if I licked your wounds that night, you, you might be infected too. I… what are we going to do if you are? I can’t help you, I’ll be useless. Have to seal us both up and you can‘t be sealed up with me in case you aren‘t…”

Rorschach let the implications of that process. Dan looked upset but was still keeping his voice down. Rorschach took a few swallows of lemonade to buy a moment. It was painfully cold and very good. 

“I’m fine,” he said. “Pushed myself too far. That’s all.” Dan wasn’t buying it, based on his expression. “Haven’t eaten, haven’t slept…. Have been worried. And injured. Add a nightmare. Haven’t been myself either.”

“Is that why you kissed me?” Dan asked and Rorschach jerked like he had been kicked. He was saved from having to answer that when their food arrived. His was some sort of turkey melt on a bun, which looked perfectly edible except that his entire being was yanked into a knot. Dan stared him into an anguished puddle before very deliberately focusing on the sandwich. Rorschach couldn’t stand it. 

“Daniel,” he began, not sure what he would say, if an apology would only make this worse. 

“Just eat,” Dan said with his mouth full. He didn’t sound upset anymore. “You need to eat.”

 

They finished the rest of their food in silence. Rorschach felt better afterwards, full and warm. The shakiness was settling down. Another nap would probably be good for him, but he didn’t want to risk another dream or slow down the mission anymore than he already had. Dan got a refill of lemonade for both of them in styrofoam cups and they headed back out into the evening. 

“I’m still wondering about the kid,” Dan said. “It’s the least I can do for him. To find out.“ Rorschach made an acknowledging sound. “I’m assuming, unless you have a better idea, that he had been bitten for a long time.” Another grunt. “So the purchaser deliberately set out to find someone in that condition and bring them here. But what for? Experiments? Some kind of medical research?”

“Considering practical applications?” Rorschach would’ve sounded mocking if he hadn’t been so industriously slurping lemonade through the straw. 

“You were the one wondering if I could be killed by normal means,” Dan reminded him. He stopped outside a door and Rorschach realized it was a dry cleaners. “Who else would stand to profit if something like that could be duplicated? Wait here a second.” He ducked inside to the merry chime of a bell hung on the door and an older woman with eyes magnified hideously by inch-thick glasses came to wait on him. Money changed hands and so did Rorschach’s trench coat and dress shirt. He came back out with the clothes over his shoulder and fell back into step and the conversation. 

“Like cancer research maybe? If it can heal up cuts and broken bones, wouldn’t it make short work of tumors too?” 

“Hadn’t thought of that,” Rorschach admitted. 

“What have you thought of ?” Dan asked and Rorschach shrugged a little. 

“Still think that if you could control it, you could put it to good use,” he said, dropping his voice as if he was ashamed of being that optimistic. “Anything powerful is of interest to powerful people. Read once about experiments on soldiers. Military would have to be interested in Americans that couldn’t be stopped with lead or iron. That could tear enemies apart with just their teeth.”

Rorschach couldn’t help but notice the difference in their thinking. Tinkering, inventing, too-trusting Daniel would assume the best, that the curse could be used to heal and protect people. Maybe it was wishful thinking spread thin over the knowledge of what he himself had done with it. Rorschach was certain that the positive aspects would only be a by-product after the weapon capabilities were exhausted

“Control would still be the issue,” Dan said after another silence. “And timing. What use is an army that’s only lethal a few days a month?”

“Seem to fight just fine the other day,” Rorschach said. It was Dan’s turn to make a sound. He handed the dry cleaning bags to Rorschach and went into the next shop. When he came out, he had the pinstripe pants, and the scarf. By now they had gone on a large circle around two blocks and Dan headed back towards Archie. 

“Still seem to be missing a few things,” Rorschach said, borderline accusatory. 

“The whole point of spreading it out was to keep the whole suit from being seen until you’re back in it,” Dan said. “Defeats the purpose to carry it all through town. We’ll drop this off and I’ll go get the suit coat and hat while you get ready.”

That made grudging sense, so Rorschach went inside to change and Dan took off again. Rorschach put his face back on, with the pants, shirt, and scarf, and was dealing with the grumpy realization that he wished his gloves had been cleaned too, when the first five notes of ‘Shave and a Haircut’ was knocked on the hatch. Dan wouldn’t do that. 

“Open up,” drawled a voice familiar enough that Rorschach could almost smell the cigar smoke already. “Got a question for you.”


	11. Chapter 11

Rorschach hesitated, then let the hatch open. Sure enough, there stood the Comedian.

”Didn’t mean to interrupt a delicate moment,” he said, with an amused snort. Rorschach was completely covered, and could recognize the attempt to embarrass him. After the last few days, he doubted there was much left that could. He didn’t speak, just stared. The Comedian took the cigar out of his mouth and gestured with it. 

“Long story short,” he said, leaning in without actually stepping inside. ”You don’t have to worry about finding that kid.”

”What?”

”I know you and Birdy have a soft spot for anklebiters, and I know you dragged that kid out of the shop by the dock a few weeks ago.”

”Docks are your territory,” Rorschach said it like he hadn't just realized it. ”You knew?”

It wasn’t hesitation. Comedian just looked back at him for a minute, turning the cigar, like he was wondering how much Rorschach really needed to know.

”You went and checked the nuthouse for him, but he was already loose, right?” he said. ”And now you’re following the paper trail. I’m just giving you a head’s up. It’s not. Your. Problem. Get it?” 

”No,” Rorschach said flatly. ”Who else is looking? Why is this child so important when the others are allowed to die?” His first impulse was to inform the Comedian that someone would have to answer for it, but couldn’t risk Daniel’s involvement being used against him.

”Can’t say I didn’t warn you,” the Comedian said. He grinned around the cigar and turned to leave. They both saw Dan standing behind him at the same moment, and the Comedian actually jumped. Dan stood there silently, backlit by the city below. He was wearing the fedora, pulled low over his eyes. In the bad light, it hid more of his face than his cowl would have, which was much more sensible than the thrill if gave Rorschach to see it.

”Finished your wifely errand?” the Comedian asked, nodding at the dry cleaning bag still over Dan’s shoulder.

”Have you?” It wasn’t Dan’s Nite Owl voice, but it wasn’t his daylight voice either. This was something new and Rorschach could see Comedian’s stance shift as he instinctively processed the threat. Inside, Rorschach could see the whole tableau and couldn’t help but notice the waxing moon rising over the skyline over Dan’s right shoulder. The moment stretched a heartbeat too long, and the Comedian chuckled and walked off. Dan had chosen his spot well. The Comedian would’ve had to change course to bump into him threateningly, which would’ve looked stupid, so he disappeared noisily down the fire escape without any more posturing from either side.

Dan stood there until the clang of boots on the metal faded into the crunch of boots on pavement and then stepped inside. He handed the clothes to Rorschach and then the hat. Rorschach could feel the heat from the inside of it all the way through his gloves. How much body heat did Dan generate now?

”You heard?”he asked.

”How long do you think he’s been following us?” It was still the new voice, and Rorschach decided that he would much rather be in the ‘us’ category. Anything else might be fair game. 

”Never been a subtle creature,” was all he he said.

”Which might just mean he’s tracking Archie,” Dan muttered, dropping into his seat and flipping switches. “Could know where the Nest is. Could know everything.”

”Knows I went to the sanitarium, but I don’t think he knows ... what happened after."

”He wouldn’t care for his own sake,” Dan said as they took off. ”So somebody’s at the other end of that leash.”

”Government?” 

“Maybe you were right after all.”

They took off and flew on and on until Rorschach was dozing in his chair. He woke up every now and then, glancing over at Nite Owl to see if his partner had noticed. Nite Owl was always staring intently ahead. The visible part of his face was set in determined lines, hard and straight as the rest of the costume. Even his lips were pulled tight. Rorschach found himself trying to remember what they tasted like. He had a vague recollection of sweat-salt with an undercurrent of blood, but really only had a clear memory of how it had felt, the warmth and the wet, both soft and slick. 

He had to look away quickly to hide a shiver and a gasp. Just because Dan wasn’t disgusted didn’t mean Rorschach wasn’t disgusting. His weakened state was no excuse. He had been hurt before without succumbing to such behavior. Was it the knowledge that Dan might not survive his condition? Was he just trying to absorb as much of his partner as he could before someone, maybe the Comedian, killed him or dragged him away to be experimented on? The thought folded Rorschach over on himself. He heard the sound he made, and had only heard it one time before, that night with the cleaver and the furnace. But a hand was on his shoulder now, and there hadn’t been then. He was pulled around and his chin lifted, and the stern face staring down at him peeled itself off to show a softer, kinder one. 

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

Rorschach shook his head, trying to duck away. Dan only leaned closer. 

“Another nightmare?” 

Rorschach shook his head again, feeling guilty for sleeping at all, then hesitating, because it was a nightmare, really, even if he was awake. Dan saw the shift and pulled his chin back around to look him in the face. He didn’t ask again, but his expression was expectant. Rorschach could growl at him, push him away, snarl something about tending his own demons, but he had let so many chances to be honest pass by and how many more would there be if this ended as badly as he was afraid it would? And that was it, right there. His answer. 

“Afraid,” he whispered. “Not used to it. Feels like sickness.”

“I’m sorry,” Dan said immediately, still not understanding. “You should be home, not out here with-”

“No,” Rorschach took Dan’s wrists as if to push them away, but just held them. “Not, not that.” He hung his head and Dan used his thumbs to nudge the chin up again. They looked at each other and the mask was no defense.

“Not much left,” Rorschach finally said. He slumped, and this time Dan let him. “Can’t lose you too.” He dug the heel of his hand into his brow with a pained sound and shrank back into his chair, anything to keep from having to see how that changed Dan’s expression. He didn’t hear anything except Archie for a long time and then Dan sighed and sank to his knees beside the chair, one hand on Rorschach’s leg. 

“Something has been eating at you for awhile, I know,” he said. “I figured you would tell me when you could stand to.” Rorschach still couldn’t look at him, but heard himself make a sound that had tried to be a word before his throat closed tight around it. How could he describe what had happened that night in a way that would let Dan comprehend the magnitude of it? He had mulled it over so many times since then. The images hadn’t lost their impact yet. He still shuddered at the memory of the dogs tugging the bone back and forth, still wanted to gag at the smell of ashes. He swayed, tempted to spill everything out and let Daniel dare to judge him, but still wanting to spare anyone else the horror of the night. 

He knew better, but the unfamiliar fear still clutched him. If Dan still believed in heroes and happy endings at all, Rorschach didn’t want to take that from him. He didn’t want to admit that he had failed a child, killed a man, and butchered his dogs, and burned away all proof of it. It had seemed fitting that the only proof would be the chill of defeat and death that hadn’t left him since, something to carry to his grave as punishment for his failure. He didn’t want Dan to know about that, even if it would explain the countless little ways the world hadn‘t been right for either of them since that night. 

“If this was reversed,” Dan said, giving up waiting for a reply. “If it was you, I would want to disappear us both for awhile. Go somewhere where we wouldn’t have to worry about innocent bystanders or covert government projects. I’d tell you that there was nothing to be done for the boy, no way to change what happened, but to try to make the best of it. And that’s when you’d say…”

He trailed off and Rorschach heaved a shuddering breath. He leaned forward to hold Dan’s wrists again. 

“Can’t allow it to go unpunished,” Rorschach grated. “Just because it can’t be changed doesn’t mean it can be ignored.” 

Dan finally smiled, a little sadly. They were in agreement, against their own better judgment. He let their foreheads touch and then their noses. Another kiss would have been the matter of the simplest turn of the head. As it was, they both felt the other’s breath, but neither tilted that final inch closer.

“Here’s where I should say it’ll be all right,” Dan said. “One way or the other.”

“No promises,” Rorschach hissed.

“No giving up either,” Dan added. His smile was a little stronger this time, and he did kiss Rorschach quickly, like a quick gulp of water that barely rippled the surface before freeing his wrists and going back to his seat. 

They didn't talk about it after that. They decided to change tactics and head back to street level. Archie could be seen and followed, maybe even tracked if they really wanted to be paranoid. They decided to get the papers from the sweatshop’s office translated before going any farther. Slow and careful, they agreed. The boy was dead after all, and solving this case wouldn’t keep Dan from changing when the moon did. There was no rush. 

They were considering the best, most discrete way to get human trafficking papers translated. Dan had gone to school with kids he had seen using kanji and other characters in their notes, but no one he had known well enough or kept in touch with. Rorschach had rescued an elderly Asian couple from some rowdies a few months before and followed them home to be sure they got there unmolested. He remembered their soft, shaken voices as they tried to hurry home, the paper-thin old man trying to hold all their groceries in one hand so he could help his tiny wife with the other. Their English had been decent when they thanked him. Maybe they would know what the words all said. 

He was sure he could find their door again and was about to suggest it when Dan sighed and looked up.

“You know who might know about industrial businessmen and European exports?” He said it reluctantly. He didn’t even have to say the name. Rorschach was already bristling.

“Thought you didn’t want to involve the others,” he spat. 

“ Not any more than I have to!” Dan waved a hand in exasperation. 

“Don’t have to at all,” Rorschach snapped. “Can’t trust him with this.”

“You don’t think so?”

Rorschach made an incoherent sound of disbelief and fury.

“Turned his back on what’s right for business,” he said the last word like it stung. “Nothing to stop him from turning back on you too. Unless there’s a profit involved.”

“That‘s a little harsh,” Dan was trying not to sound amused, knowing that would fan the flames. The effort was wasted. Rorschach’s whole body had gone taut, every posture one of outrage. 

“What would you quit for?” Rorschach hissed. “What would make you turn a blind eye and deaf ear to children bought and sold as your city screams like a whore being stabbed?” Dan was taken aback by that. That was a long, pronoun-laden sentence for Rorschach and he wasn’t finished. “What would be worth it for you to walk away?“ His tone made it obvious that he didn’t believe Dan ever would. 

“What price my soul?” Dan added, probably just to stop the tirade. He looked like he was seriously thinking about the question, which startled Rorschach enough to smother the anger. He had meant it to be rhetorical and his rant had cost him. He felt shaky and unsettled and could hear his breathing too loud and fast under the mask. Rorschach knew himself well enough to know that he couldn’t stop doing what he did any more than he could quit breathing. And what did Daniel have that he could live without it either? Nothing. Rorschach knew that. Too much of his life was invested in his alter ego, the armor and the ship and the weapons and the gadgets. Outside of that, what was there?

Dan hadn’t answered, but he was looking so thoughtfully at Rorschach that the silence felt full of needles. 

“Can’t rely on him,“ Rorschach insisted. “Or the others. Two on government leashes like you said. One barely more than a child.” Dan’s expression sharpened a little, as if he knew that ’child’ wasn’t the word Rorschach had nearly said. “Your life is at stake. Can’t trust them with it.”

“What if we’re being delusional?” Dan asked it gently, but Rorschach saw the gleam of teeth behind his lips. “What if all the things we’re afraid of are what should happen? Maybe I should be… contained somewhere. By experts. Maybe it would be for the best.” 

“Testing me, Daniel?” Rorschach asked. “Who is it best for?” He leaned closer, challenging. “Who? Not you. Not me.” 

Dan just grinned at him and he knew he had been tested, even if Dan wasn’t completely aware of it himself.


	12. Chapter 12

The days passed in hunting. Rorschach did track down the Manivong’s again and Mr. Manivong did his best to recognize the characters while his wife bragged how clever he was and tried to feed Rorschach every time he held still. Mr. Manivong had worked at a train station when he was young and had learned bits and pieces of several languages. That had been a long time ago, but he did his best, spurred on more by his wife’s confidence than Rorschach’s looming. He made out some addresses and wrote them carefully in English on the back of an envelope. 

Nite Owl hadn’t come with him. He had been following a lead of his own and had chuckled at not wanting to frighten the old couple. He was finding more of this funny the closer the end of the month came, smiling and laughing softly at strange times. He wasn’t at the ship when Rorschach made it back, so he sat down to wait, going over the addresses more carefully to memorize them. He was tempted to set off on his own, and meet up with Nite Owl later, but was willing to wait a little while. 

The time ticked by. Impatience became irritation. Rorschach got up and paced. The irritation became unease and he got out of Archie to have more room to stalk around. He told himself there was no reason to get upset. Nite Owl had a scent worth following. That had to be a good sign. Still, the last time he hadn’t been there when he said he would, he had ended up with a bullet hole in his neck and a tub full of partially digested mugger. 

Waiting was going to drive him crazy so Rorschach grumbled a little, then folded the envelope in half and stuck it between the back and seat cushions of the pilot chair where Nite Owl would see it. He already had the addresses memorized, so he set off with his hands in his pockets to check out the first. On the way, he considered the gradual change in his partner’s behavior. 

It occurred to him that all the shows of amusement, the laughter, the grinning, could just be excuses to show his teeth, show the threat, even if it was disguised by something that should’ve been playful. He tried to remember if Nite Owl had behaved this way the month before and was disturbed that he didn’t remember. _He_ had been the one disappearing to follow leads then. It had been him being eaten up from the inside by something and it felt so long ago that he had been disgusted at Nite Owl’s inability to grasp the horror that the world was capable of. 

Those had been human problems though. Rorschach was dealing with inhuman ones now. That thought brought a wave of anger. He shouldn’t have let the girl’s death sink to the background the way it had. Nothing should be worse than that, not even what had happened to the boy, and he stopped for a moment to decide if he was actually resentful that the worst thing that had ever happened to him had been derailed by something as ridiculous as werewolves.

Wasn’t ridiculous when it was chasing you, he reminded himself. When it was tearing the guts out of the boy. In the dream when it was eating your tongue out of your head. He started walking again. He looked up and the sky was a streetlight-lit haze, too cloudy to see the moon or stars. He knew there was only a sliver missing from the moon tonight, like a trimmed away toenail. Daniel had built a new cage for himself, down in the unused subway tunnels. He had set up security equipment to see for himself what happened when he changed, which Rorschach had only agreed to with the promise of destroying the tapes immediately after. 

The full moon was coming. That thought took precedence. He didn’t know where Daniel was. That was upsetting to him now. He had stopped walking, but only because he had gotten to the first address. The door had an X-shaped logo on it, but as he got closer he could see that it was actually a V overtop a pyramid. Of course.

The doors were locked and there was no fire escape. Through the glass, Rorschach could see the small lights from security cameras. He did a lap around the building to try to decide the best way in. It looked secure, but there were two buildings in hook range of the roof. The closest in height didn’t have a fire escape either, but the smaller one did. He would have to stair-step it, climb to the first roof, grapnel to the other two, and then find a utility door or skylight to enter through. 

He had only made it to the first rooftop when the alarm from Veidt’s building went off. He froze, crouching down beside an air conditioning unit. A blur of movement from the Pyramid roof caught his eye. Someone jumped, a darker silhouette against the street-lit clouds, farther than should’ve been possible, and landed on the roof Rorschach had been about to aim for. He heard the crunch of feet and then the figure was jumping again to another rooftop and it was gone. 

It reminded him of the night the creature chased him, when it had jumped and the lights below had traced over it. The same boneless ease was evident here, and Rorschach was already running after on reflex. Behind him, the alarm still blared and off in the distance, a siren was answering. He wouldn’t be able to get in the building now anyway. 

He wouldn’t be able to catch this intruder either, it was entirely too fast, but he hoped he could at least keep it in sight. Whoever it was looked big, dressed in heavy black clothes, and he thought for a moment that it might be the Comedian, but then it vaulted over another alley more effortlessly than the Comedian had ever moved. It landed without missing a step and kept going. 

Maybe the boy hadn’t been the only one bought by Veidt, Rorschach thought, hopping nimbly over a series of ceiling vents. If this was another bitten soul escaping, then maybe it could be helped. Maybe it could tell them more. Maybe it and Daniel would fight to the death when that last piece of moon came into sight. 

Rorschach heard the familiar sound of a door kicked in and made it to the edge of the roof too late to see the fleeing man, but he saw the utility door swinging uselessly open. He swung over and started down the dark stairs like Alice down a rabbit hole. It was pitch black inside, so he dragged a hand down each wall as he went, half to feel for a light switch, half to balance himself. He stumbled down what felt like several floors before the air got cold and wet-smelling. His feet hit a concrete floor and he stopped when the walls opened out of reach.

He pulled out his flashlight and shook a weak beam out of it. It would need more batteries soon. He was in a basement-like room, alone, but a sound from behind made him spin around. The flashlight flickered in stripes through the slat stairs, and he made out a darker shape in the back. It was another door leading down deeper into the building. The flashlight showed a narrow utility tunnel, so Rorschach started down it. It had to be an old sewer maintenance access. He had been in enough of them to recognize that. 

The flashlight flickered out, so he slapped it a few times. It gave him half a minute more of light, which got him to a handrail. When it went out again, he kept going, holding the rail. Whoever he was after would need some way to see down here too, so there would be a light source eventually. Then the hand he had on the rail was grabbed. A stab of pure childhood fear started out as a scream but another grip seized his throat and choked it down. His back hit the wall, the rail digging in painfully, and a large body pinned his against the old bricks. 

Rorschach kicked out and missed. Something touched his head and he thrashed, but then something was crammed over his eyes and everything went green. He could see again. He was being held tightly by someone in a ski mask and a hood who was holding a pair of goggles to his face. Night vision. Nite Owl. He stopped struggling, even though adrenaline still left him prickling. Nite Owl leaned in close and Rorschach felt warm breath in his ear as the hand around his throat slid up to his jaw. 

“You were right,” Nite Owl breathed, barely contained rage and distress plain even in a whisper. “You were right.”

The goggles were pulled away and everything went black again. The hands still held him, traced him over. He could feel Dan’s heartbeat and the heat radiating off of him through the layers of clothes. He put his hands up against the heaving chest, felt the lines of armor and padding under the cat burgler get-up, enough to change the outline of his body, but not enough to slow him down. The hand rail was still digging into his back, but Dan’s hands wrapped around him, and the ski-masked face pressed into his throat. 

“Tell me,“ he gasped, still shaking from adrenaline. 

“You were right,” Dan whispered again. “Can’t trust any of them. Can’t trust anyone. No one but you.” That sent a blaze of weakness through Rorschach’s joints, heat and elation spiraling into his stomach while the rest of him staggered. Dan was shaking too. His hands were covered, not his usual gauntlets, just some plain leather gloves. Rorschach could feel the difference through his mask when they roamed over his face again. He still couldn’t see a thing. Every touch made him flinch and he had no way to tell where the next one was coming from. Dan must’ve sensed it because he stopped lifting his hands away, just slid them around, running a thumb over Rorschach’s mouth, dragging fingertips down his throat to stroke his chest and then gliding them over and under to rub his back.

“Just you,” came the whisper on a warm breath against the side of his neck. Rorschach’s arms had hooked around Dan’s body of their own volition, one around his neck and the other around his back.

“What happened?” he asked. 

“Not here,” Dan groaned. He shuddered, suddenly pressing Rorschach hard against the wall. Rorschach’s shoulders ground against the brick, but the rail in his lower back kept his hips pitched forward and Dan was plastered against them. Every shift in stance or hitch in breathing created friction. Even through both their multiple layers, it was maddening. 

“Tell me!” Rorschach insisted, trying not to stutter. 

“Not here,” Dan said again. Rorschach felt his mouth through both masks, brushing over his jaw and lingering against his own. He took Rorschach‘s arms and pulled them to each side. “Go back out the way you came. Call the police. Tell them there’s a hitman holed up in 3B. There is. This is his escape tunnel. Then head back to Archie.”

Rorschach was mid-protest, not wanting to separate again, but something heavy was pressed into his palm, and a heavier kiss was pressed against his mouth. 

“I’ll meet you there,” Dan said. Then, he was gone, leaving Rorschach to gasp at the suddenly empty darkness. Without the heat radiating from Dan, he felt chilled. He fumbled with the object in his hand, found something like a button, and pressed it. Light flared, painful after the blackness, lighting up the little tunnel. There was no sign of Dan, so Rorschach took a moment to get his breath back and then hurried back to the basement and up the steps. 

He did as he was told, made the call, and then ran back toward where Archie was parked. Dan wasn’t there. He had to wait, jittering and panting as sirens went off in the distance, pacing when he couldn’t stand to sit, growling angrily to himself when he couldn’t stand the silence. Finally, after what felt like forever and he had simmered himself down to a bundle of nerves, Nite Owl appeared in full costume, walking casually and greeting him normally. He came on board and they took off. It was all Rorschach could do not to shake him, but he didn’t speak again until they were at the bottom of the river. 

“Veidt,” he said before Rorschach could ask. “His company, his money. It was him. He knew. Some paranoid apocalyptic fantasy that he thinks he’s going to save us all from. The boy? He was from Lop Nur. China. They did the nuclear testing there in ‘64. They found the kid out there a few years ago, completely unaffected and healthy in the middle of a radioactive wasteland. Wild as a rabid coyote, but not a trace of radiation poisoning. They did some tests and nothing phased the kid.” He took a deep breath and pulled his goggles off to look directly at Rorschach. 

“Whatever Veidt’s doing, he expects nuclear war to be a part of it. And if the equations I saw are accurate, he wants to find a way to, I don’t know, inoculate the population against the fallout with some customized version of lycanthropy. That‘s why he wanted the kid. To single out and mass-produce the radiation immunity and probably the healing ability and then expose the public to it somehow.”

“Insane,” Rorschach said, leaning across the gap between chairs. “Can’t possibly understand how dangerous-”

“I’m tempted to show him,” Dan growled. “But with the kid dead, I may be the only other source of it he knows of. If he knows. And he may.”

“No,” Rorschach’s grip tightened on the armrest. “Daniel, no.”

“If I had gone to him, God knows how many test tubes I’d be divided between right now.” He managed a smile. “Luckily, I have my own voice of reason.”

“What now?” Rorschach refused to be flattered. 

“I’m starving,” Dan said, eyes going bright and eager. “Need to eat so I can think. Food first. Then plan.” 

They ordered food from the communicator and got back to the brownstone in time to answer the door for it. They spread it out over the table and started eating. They didn’t talk, just ate in grim, hurried silence. 

“Two more days,” Dan said suddenly. “One more night. The moon will be full.” Rorschach nodded. Dan looked at him from under disheveled hair. “If they come for me, it will be then.”

“You think they will.”

“Assume the worst,” Dan said. “’The house is bugged, Archie is bugged, they know everything. They know where my cage is and all they have to do is wait until I’m locked in to come collect me.” 

Rorschach processed that silently. Paranoia had always served him well in the past. 

“Unless they come early to have you safely captured before you’re so much more dangerous,” he offered. Dan swore, running a hand through his hair to slick it back. It didn’t help. “What do we do?”

“We’re running out of time,” Dan grumbled. “If we could track down the AWOL crew members of the ship, or -”

“Comedian knows something,” Rorschach reminded him. “In on it somehow.”

“Makes sense,” Dan said, rolling his shoulders angrily. “If it’s got something to do with war than the military is involved somehow. Veidt was working with Dr. Manhattan remember? Some fuel alternative supposedly. Suppose it wasn’t? And if Veidt and Jon and the Comedian and all their respective branches of government and industry have their fingers in it, we are seriously outnumbered here.”

They sat quietly for a minute. The clock ticked noisily on the wall.

“Even if we had the boy to give them, we couldn’t,” Rorschach said finally. “Whatever they might do to him, they would do all over again to everyone. A whole city full of werewolves? No offense, Daniel, but one is enough.”

“Tell me about it,” Dan muttered. “If we could get along it might not be a total nightmare, but we seem to attack each other on sight. What if that transfers somehow and Veidt brings to life a whole population of people who can’t stand each other? It would ruin us as a communal society. We‘d all turn on each other at the drop of a hat.”

“Strange. Wolves are supposed to be social.”

“If I was a wolf it might be strange. I’m not. Wolves are shy and family-oriented and sometimes raise human children. You’ve see what I would do to a child.”

“Didn’t do it to me.”

“You keep saying that!” Dan snapped.

“It’s still true. We just don’t know why.” Rorschach looked at him keenly. “You had me. Unconscious, bleeding, helpless. Didn’t even gnaw on me. Why?”

“I don’t know! I don’t remember any of that!”

“Couldn’t have been too full. Ate a grown man the first night down to his shoes and a belt buckle. Boy was skin and bones, not enough to fill you.”

“Enough, Rorschach, I can‘t-”

“Was certain you’d kill me the second night. When I ran. If I had stood and let you reach me, feel sure you wouldn’t torn me apart.”

“Enough!”

“It doesn’t make sense! Should’ve killed me!”

The table between them was suddenly bouncing off the far wall and Dan had slammed Rorschach back against the counter top. It had happened so quickly that Rorschach had no time to defend himself. He was bent over in the chair, knees and feet in the air, neck against the counter edge, and Dan’s hands clenched in his coat. 

“It that what you want??” Dan roared, shaking him. “You want me to kill you?? Is that what this is? Would you be happier if I had torn your guts out??” His eyes had flared amber and there was a definite rumble in his chest. 

“No…” It was a whisper. 

“What is the matter with you?? You won’t stay away or out of reach or safe and you-”

“Want me to stay away?”

“NO!!” Dan bellowed it, shaking him again. He went through a contortion of rage and sorrow and then slumped. He pulled Rorschach’s chair back to all fours and then dropped to his knees in front of it. “No,” he said softly and let his head drop in Rorschach’s lap. Rorschach reached under to lift his face, cupping it in his hands. Dan put his own hands over Rorschach’s. His eyes were still fierce but the rage had ebbed. “I love you,” he said before Rorschach could say anything and that kept them both still and silent for a long time afterwards.


	13. Chapter 13

“We can’t stay,” Dan said after awhile, getting back to his feet. If he felt any qualms about the earlier confession it didn’t show. Had he accepted it so easily? “If they do come for me, they’ll come here first.”

“Go underground,” Rorschach agreed. “I know where.”

“You do?” Dan had more concerns, namely his cage that he couldn’t use, but the immediate assurance was a relief. 

“Get what you’ll need,” Rorschach said. “I’ll pack a bag too.” 

They went in opposite directions and were both ready in an hour. Rorschach had unmasked and was in the clothes Dan had bought for him, one of Dan’s pillowcases stuffed to bulging over his shoulder. Dan had a duffle and was making some last minute adjustments to Archie. Rorschach had also acquired new batteries for his flashlight and he lead the way down the subway entrance. They were only topside for a few blocks before he took them underground again. 

“Didn’t think you meant literally,” Dan muttered, but he followed close. Rorschach clearly knew the way, guiding them deeper and darker under their city. Over their heads, the sun rose and the city woke. They could feel the vibrations of it down through the stone and steel and Rorschach’s pace finally slowed. 

He cast his light around, letting Dan see an abandoned subway tunnel. It was scribbled over with several layers of graffiti, but underneath he could still see the shape of detailed stone work and pillars. It had been a stately, regal place once.

“Built in 1904,” Rorschach said, leading the way farther into the dark. “It was closed in ‘48 when they lengthened the next platform.”

“How did you find it?” Dan squinted at some carvings in the wall. He could make out part of a number, he thought it was an 8, and some relief carvings of laurels. 

“Early in career,” Rorschach said and he had moved far enough ahead that Dan had to hurry after him. “Got some bad information, ended up lost down here. Found it.” He stopped in front of a door and knelt to pick the lock. “Spray paint is old. Slogans and epithets outdated as well. Even vandals don’t come here anymore.”

The lock gave and Rorschach had to drag the ancient door open enough to wave Dan in before locking everything back into place. It was some sort of office, maybe a lounge for gentlemen, back when such things were still common. There were dusty leather sofas, ash trays that should’ve been gleaming brass. There was an obvious art nouveau influence in the fixtures and the designs in the carpets. It was all covered in decades of dust, but it was dry and didn’t smell like most of the abandoned places they tramped through. 

It had been kept locked tight against intruders and rats and it felt very still and secret. Dan felt a pleasant tingle to be there, so many years after it had been sealed away from a world that had left it behind. Rorschach pushed two of the leather sofas together, facing each other into a makeshift bed. He dug a sheet out of his bag and covered them with it. Dan looked around for more to make his own, but Rorschach beckoned him over. He had also packed Dan’s emergency candles and some matches and using one of the old tall ashtrays too set them up some light. 

“Seems a shame to waste this on containing me,” Dan said, just to let a voice into the stillness. 

“Have another plan for that,” Rorschach told him. He patted the stretch of sheet next to him. “Rest awhile. Still have time to change plans if you don’t think it will work.” 

Dan eased in beside him. The two couch backs fenced them in, made a little nest, and he was tired. It was nice to curl up and let his head rest on the old cushions. Rorschach was still sitting up, probably a long way from sleep. He blew out the candles though, plunging them both into pitch blackness with a whiff of smoke and hot wax. It felt a little liked sleeping in a haunted house on a dare, easy to imagine spiders or rats or the silent ghosts of old train passengers watching them, but all that touched him was a rough hand, too familiar to startle him. 

It traced his cheek and his neck and he reached out to pull the whole person close. Maybe the dark made it safe, made it allowed, but there wasn’t any resistance. The hands touched lightly over his chest and belly. He breathed in warm living scent and tasted stubble. Arms wrapped around him and he finally fell asleep with a heartbeat against his ear.

 

Dan dreamed of motion, the steady rock of his own body running. He was on all fours, solid ground under him, and he ran through a dark blur that could’ve been trees or buildings or tunnels. He could hear the huff of his own breathing, feel the stretch and bunch of his spine as he went. He was after something or something was after him and either way, his teeth ached to sink into warmth and wetness. It was perfect joy to run with no thought but the awareness of his own speed and power, pounding through the dark. 

Something took shape in the darkness ahead of him and he didn’t have to think to chase after it. He was on it in a heartbeat, jaws closing around its throat and it kicked out in a useless, desperate leap to be out of his reach. The movement brought its spine up against his chest and his arms wrapped around it. Everything changed, but the sense of motion went on. 

He could still feel the steady rock of his own body. He was on his knees, a solid body under him and he ran hands and mouth over it. He could hear the huff of their breathing, feel the stretch and bunch of their bodies as they moved. He was inside someone or someone was inside him and either way, he ached to sink into warmth and wetness. It was as perfect as before, a purely physical sense of completion and the eager joy of a mate found or fought for, and then his teeth bit down hard. 

The blood gushed into his mouth like an orgasm and the two halves of the dream merged until the two acts couldn’t be distinguished. The prey thrashed, his mate gasped. The puncture of his teeth was as pleasurable as the penetration. Sweat and blood were slick and salty under his tongue. Pants of lust couldn’t be told from dying gasps. Was the body under him in its death throes or on the verge of climax? Was he fucking his prey or killing his mate and was there any real difference? He couldn’t tell, couldn’t tell if he had hands or claws, or if he was a man or animal, or even which he was supposed to be. Which he wanted to be. He drew in a breath to cry out, either in panic or victory or desire, and the sound woke him up, hungrier and harder than he could ever remember being. 

The utter darkness startled him at first. It was like waking up blind and he struggled, getting tangled in clothing and limbs and slamming into the back of the couch. Suddenly claustrophobic, he thrashed his way out of the nest and ran into one of the brass ash trays. It hit the floor with a clang that reminded him where he was and a flashlight clicked on. The blast of light made him wince and when he raised his hand to shield his eyes, he noticed how hard he was shaking. He heard his name, spoken too softly and warily, as if Rorschach wasn’t sure he was awake yet. 

Behind the light, Rorschach was sitting up, looking only a little disheveled from sleep. There weren’t any gaping bite wounds in his throat, no claw marks across his belly. Dan sighed, trying to get a grip on himself. He ached all over, more than a night on an old couch should’ve caused. The most persistent ache throbbed against his zipper and the other coiled in his empty stomach. Even his gums felt sore around his teeth.

“Need to move,” he said. “I can’t breathe. I can’t stay here. Have to eat, have to breathe, need to run, need to-” He trailed off. He had folded his arms over his belly like he could squeeze the hunger back. He probably should’ve tried to cover lower, but Rorschach got up without comment which Dan would‘ve thought odd if he could think of anything but his ravenous internal demands. 

“Follow me,” Rorschach said and went to the door. A lunge, a rush of movement, and he could be pinned against the far wall, and then what? Dan had no idea what he might do at close range, so he hung back until Rorschach was outside. He was carrying the pillow case again. Dan hoped there was food in it. He fisted his hands, gritted his teeth and followed at a distance. 

“What time is it?” Dan asked, when he was sure his voice would be steady. 

“About 9 PM,” Rorschach answered. 

“Archie’s already on the move then. I set him on a timer to take off and patrol so it will look like I’m on the job,” he explained when Rorschach looked over his shoulder at him. “Thought it might throw off anyone expecting to find me at home.”

Rorschach made a vaguely approving noise that translated into impressed. He was rummaging in his bag and tossed a can to Dan. It was a can of Treet, which Dan was pretty sure hadn’t come from his house. He had never cared for canned meat, the spongy pinkness of it, the dogfood-like smell, and had used the kosher excuse to avoid it, but the ravenous pit in his stomach insisted he yank up the pull tab and eat it anyway.

It was too soft. His teeth wanted to sink into stringy fibers and muscle grain, something warm and tough enough to rub the itch around his teeth. He ate it all anyway and then drank the broth-juice out of the bottom, which should’ve been disgusting instead of just vaguely dissatisfying. It served its purpose, covering the bottom of his hunger. 

He was about to ask if there was more when Rorschach’s flashlight found where they were going, an old subway car that the old tunnel had collapsed on, burying it up to the rear windows in rubble. Dan took it in, mind already humming. The back window was broken and a human could fit through it, but nothing bigger. If he were inside when he changed, only his head would be able to get out. Rorschach was silent, letting him think. 

“This could work,” Dan admitted, taking the flashlight to peer into the window. The inside of the car was bowed in a little from the weight of the debris and the handrails were all bent, but there were still seats and the walls looked intact. He crawled inside and gave an experimental bounce. Nothing moved. The care was held fast by the cocoon of dirt. “I’ll have to make some changes to be sure I can’t get out, but-“

“Do it,” Rorschach said. He crawled in and dropped the bag, pulling his costume out of it. “I’ll make an appearance topside too. Make usual rounds.” He nudged the bag toward Dan and started to get dressed. “More food. Eat it. I’ll bring more later.”

“I…” Dan sounded suddenly forlorn. “Don’t want you to go without me.”

“Don’t want to leave you. Afraid you’ll go stir-crazy and take off. Or there’ll be no one to help you if they come while I’m gone. Afraid I might be followed back. Nerve-wracking.” The last was said shortly as he yanked his gloves on. Dan grabbed his hands before he could pull the mask on and leaned forward to nuzzle him. His breath still smelled like the Treet. 

“Those are all possibilities,” he said. “If you leave now, we might never see each other again.”

“Unfair,” Rorschach whispered. “That’s true of every night.” And he was right, so Dan sighed and breathed in Rorschach’s scent before moving to the freckled ear. 

“Promise you’ll come back,” he said. Rorschach nodded. Dan was holding his hands to his chest and his body heat was searing through the gloves. “You will come back to me.”

“Yes.” It wasn’t said loudly, but there was no reluctance there either. “Make us a nest here and I’ll be back to stay with you until sunset.” There was a definite promise in his tone, an offer of something in the lingering sibilance over ‘us’ and ‘nest’ and especially ‘stay’ that set off silent alarms all through Dan’s instincts. His breath quickened and his hands slid up Rorschach’s arms to his shoulders.

“You’re crazy,” he whispered. “What if I-“ His fingers traced the jugular vein down Rorschach’s throat. “-hurt you?”

“Then, I’ll stay until sunrise too.” Rorschach said it like it was the most sensible solution and nothing out of the ordinary to offer. 

“Crazy,” Dan said again. “What if I kill you?”

“Stick to original plan.” It should’ve surprised him that Rorschach had thought that out too. “Go north. Or south. Stay moving, stay hidden. Never let them catch you.” Dan groaned softly and hung his head. Rorschach leaned into him. 

“Make us a safe place,” he whispered. “I’ll be back before sunrise.” They both hesitated to pull away from each other and Rorschach took advantage of that to dare to kiss him quickly before hurrying away. He was out of sight down the tunnel before he heard the sounds of work behind him.


	14. Chapter 14

It took awhile to walk off the jitters once he was back on the street. The magnitude of what he intended to do had him in knots. Nothing would be the same after this, if it worked, but nothing had been right anyway, since the girl and the dogs and the fire. He had been flailing for purchase in a crumbling world since, and as dangerous and bizarre as this was, it gave him a straw to grasp at. 

He headed for Happy Harry’s. He made his usual scene, implied that he was looking for someone, let slip hints of places his partner was looking. They gave him enough to be laughable and he left to make more rounds. It was midnight when the car door slammed at the end of the alley he had just ducked down.

“Rorschach.” It was a familiar voice and he felt his teeth clench, but turned to face Adrian Veidt. “I’m told you were caught on camera outside one of my businesses a few minutes before the alarms went off. I was wondering if you could tell me what happened.“

“Wondered what the V was for,” Rorschach said to buy time for an excuse. “Got a tip. Lowlife hired for espionage. Step up from assassin, I suppose.” He tilted his head. “Anything significant taken?”

“No,” Veidt was looking at him carefully now, no doubt processing his postures and voice patterns for anything suspicious. Rorschach was determined to give away nothing. “The files had been rifled through, but were all intact. Perhaps the alarm startled him off.”

“In police custody.” Rorschach half-shrugged. “Should be easy to question. If you still do that.” That last carried enough snideness for Veidt to relax and politely not roll his eyes.

“He was killed in prison the first night,” he sighed. “Even you wouldn’t be able to get much out of him now. Why were you after him, if I may ask?”

“Human trafficking,” Rorschach said at once. “Following money trail.”

“Any connection to the sweat shop bust a month ago?” The question was asked mildly, but Rorschach tensed.

“Have to ask the Comedian,” he said. One of Veidt’s eyebrows arched. “His territory. His problem. So he says.”

“Interesting,” Veidt mused. “Will you be meeting up with your partner soon?” Rorschach was already walking away.

“Irrelevant to you,” he said. “No longer one of us.”

“No need for that, Rorschach.” Veidt sounded more tolerant than upset, but then again, he always had.

“No need for you to know,” Rorschach vanished into the shadows, only his voice drifting out. “Businessman now. Mind your own business.” 

He kept going, senses wide open for anyone following. A few times he felt eyes and was sure that if he had looked up an instant sooner, he would’ve seen someone. He kept going, waiting for his stalker to make a mistake. The night went on as countless others had.

He broke up a pack of Topknot-wannabes in a parking lot just by stopping on the sidewalk and looking their group over. He stopped a fight between a pimp and a woman old enough to be his mother. They forgot their quarrel to curse and gesture at him as he walked away again. He saw a teenager hiding a gun and eyeing a convenience store. He broke the kid’s nose, which was all it took to get the name of who had sold him the firearm. Rorschach took the gun to return to the dealer later. 

He hadn’t patrolled since Dan’s first change, and it was a reminder of how relentless the city really was. He could almost be proud of it if only that insistence could be aimed in wholesome directions. As it was, he dislocated a purse-snatcher’s elbow, knocked out a violent drunk, and terrified a girl too young to wear make-up, much less fishnets, off a street corner. 

Another not-sound from overhead made him stop to look up. Still nothing. Clouds had moved in, covering the moon. He wondered when the exact moment it would become full would be. The moon was full before it rose, so that must happen sometime during the day, but Dan hadn’t started to change until nightfall. He didn’t know enough about astronomy to make sense of that. He doubted anyone did.

There was thunder in the distance, and he hoped it would rain hard enough to deter whoever was after him. He still had to find food and find a way to get back to the subway tunnels without being followed. Somewhere in hearing range, someone screamed and he turned toward the sound.

 

The sky reflected his emotions, churning and darkening until the whole horizon was roiling like his nerves. At 3 am, it broke open and the rain poured down. Rorschach was soaked in only a few seconds and headed to the nearest subway entrance. Time to disappear. 

He had vanished under the noses of cops and thugs more than once. Sleight of hand, sleight of mind, one minute there and the next, just another in the dull-eyed herd of human cattle. Even at this hour, there was enough of a crowd to slip into. Everyone was wet, annoyed, and distracted. No one noticed the quick shadow ducking out of sight and even if they had, the quick reappearance of a sullen, dripping wet man in a wifebeater would’ve explained it. His hair and pants were too soaked for anyone to be sure of the color. The undershirt was almost transparent across his chest and those who lingered to see that were discouraged by the scowl. 

He rode to the station nearest the building Dan had found the hitman in and walked into the apartment building without any trouble. It was maybe three notches up from his own tenement, no doorman or front desk to see who went where. The door Dan had kicked in had a new latch on it, but it was a cheap one, easily opened and Rorschach headed down the stairs again. He had his flashlight this time and he waited at the bottom to see if anyone would follow him down. 

Twenty minutes passed with no sign or pursuit so, Rorschach ducked down the hidden tunnel, slowing to trail his hand along the rail he had been pinned against and remember the roving hands and warm whispers. He quivered and hurried on. He went down into the sewer access, thankfully still in pipes though the smell was obvious. He found a spot to wait for a pursuer again and let another half hour tick by, resting and getting his breath back. Still no sign of being followed, so he made his way to another exit and out onto the street again. It was still pouring, but he was already soaked to the bone, so it didn’t matter. He had taken some money from Dan’s change bowl back at his house and he used it to buy a bag of fried chicken from a soul food stand on the corner. The motherly woman behind the stand pursed her lips at him while he scowled at her take-a-penny cup. He was a few blocks away before he noticed that she had slipped some biscuits into the bag while he had been avoiding eye contact. 

He debated going to give them back on principal. He was not a charity case, but if the chicken wasn’t enough for Dan, they might come in handy. Bread was filling. That could be vital later. So he sighed and kept going. One more double back to be absolutely sure there was no one on his trail and then back underground, down the winding way into the dark. 

All was silent in the car, so he shone his flashlight into it. There was no sign of Dan, which could either mean that he was being sensible, laying low and being quiet until he was sure who was there, or it could mean that he was gone, either run mad and hungry through the tunnels or dragged out to who knows where by some covert agents. Or he was still there, processing the scents, waiting for Rorschach to come close enough to get his teeth into. 

“I’m back,” he said into the window. No answer came and he couldn’t see far with the flashlight, so he took a deep breath and crawled inside. It was immediately obvious that Dan had been busy. The metal around the window had been peeled back and curled into spikes. A person would have to crawl out carefully to keep from losing skin. Anything larger would be impaled. The rails had been broken at the floor and bent into more spikes. The seats had been pulled out of the floor too, and used to block off the far end of the car. Their seat cushions had been torn away. 

“Daniel.” He kept the question out of his voice, walking carefully towards the nest of twisted metal, but the silence had his guts twisting. He could feel his pulse hard and fast in his throat, hear the rustle from the bag as his hand shook. He swallowed and felt the pound of blood in his ears. This time, he couldn’t help the pleading tone. “Daniel?”


	15. Chapter 15

“Didn’t have to come back.” It was a low sound from somewhere in the nest of mangled seats. 

“I did,” Rorschach said, not sure if he was arguing or just stating the obvious. His flashlight was no help picking his way through the obstacle course. It just cast twisting shadows all around, but he finally saw an organic shape in all the bent metal. Dan sat in the middle of the nest, naked except for strips of what looked like his own shirt around his hands. 

“Hurt?“ he asked. Dan shook his head.

“Not really. Couldn’t stand to have clothes on after awhile. Could feel every thread. Cut my hands on the metal. Didn’t bleed long, but it made a mess.”

“Here,” Rorschach said, finally getting through the barrier. He held out the bag. “Food.”

“Thank you,” Dan said, making no move to take it. He flexed his hands. There weren’t any visible wounds, just smears of dry blood. 

“You aren’t hungry?” Rorschach tried to keep the flashlight beam out of his face, as much as he wanted to check for anything wrong. Dan finally looked up. His eyes looked yellow, but that might have just been the light. 

“Starving,” he said. Rorschach held out the bag again and this time he took it. He looked almost reluctant, like indulging his appetite would only make it worse. Rorschach didn’t sit down until he started eating. Dan handed the bag back. 

“For you,” Rorschach protested.

“You still smell like takeout. You haven’t eaten since then have you?” He hadn’t, so to avoid an argument and keep from admitting hunger later (and maybe it would help if they ate together?), Rorschach took one piece and one biscuit. The rest was gone before he had a chance to finish it. It was hard to swallow with those eyes on him.

“Should’ve brought drinks,” he realized aloud. “Must be thirsty.”

“I drank out of the cans you left me,” Dan was leaning closer. “I’m fine.” Rorschach could feel the heat radiating off him.

“Burning up,” he said, touching Dan’s arm. The press of fingers was all Dan had been waiting for. He leaned into Rorschach, pressing close. Rorschach’s clothes were still wet and he had been ignoring how the trip underground had chilled him. He was surprised at how cold he really was in comparison. 

“God, you feel good,” Dan moaned. “Like an icepack on sunburn.” They were at such contrast now, they probably should’ve sizzled. Dan buried his face against his neck and the heat was almost painful, but he leaned back into it, running cool hands over the expanse of back he could reach. It was comfortable for only a minute before Dan gripped his legs and scooted them forward, tipping Rorschach over to his back. He didn’t fight that either and Dan’s body pinned his to the old seat cushions. 

He was heavy and the heat he was generating enveloped them both. Rorschach remembered his dream, the sweltering and the spilled guts, and wasn’t able to hold back a hiss when Dan’s mouth covered his. He could smell dried blood as fingers raked through his wet hair, and the hands came away clean. He heard the click as their teeth scraped together. All their previous kisses had been furtive, half-stolen things, testing the waters. This was more like cliff-diving. 

He should’ve been terrified, that he was doing this at all, that the last memory he had resembling this had ended with his tongue torn out and eaten, that light would pour through the broken window and some covert military science containment team would drag them both out, that he was letting this happen, that he was clumsily doing it back… There was fear in it, anticipatory and breathless, half expecting the jaws to clench and the skin to tear at any moment, for the muscles to twist and fur to bristle under his hands. There was also relief. Whatever this was that had been brewing between since the first change was finally happening and however it ended, at least the uncertainty would be gone. 

Dan broke the kiss for air, but couldn’t stop entirely. He kissed and mouthed down Rorschach’s jaw to his throat. Rorschach was gasping for breath and arched his neck, token submission and a plea for more without a word. Dan’s fingers dug in as he recognized that. The kiss over Rorschach’s jugular turned hungry and he whimpered when the teeth dug in a second later. Dan caught himself as soon as he heard the sound. He hadn’t broken the skin, but it startled them both. He buried his face in Rorschach’s chest with a groan, shaking with the effort of restraint.

“It’s all right,” he said shakily. “Didn‘t hurt. We can stop.“ Dan growled at him, not his Nite Owl growl, but an animal sound from down in his chest.

“You knew,” he rumbled. “When you came in here. Had accepted it. Could smell it on you. Can taste it on you now.” His tongue lapped at Rorschach’s and then went back to the spot on his throat. “Been waiting,” he moaned. “Needing.” He was trying so hard to hold back, be careful, but eagerness left him fumbling and pawing. Rorschach felt teeth again, this time on his jaw. They were replaced by lips and another almost-bite on his neck was reined back into a sucking kiss.

Rorschach moaned his name, and Dan kissed him quiet again. The goggles were pulled back over Rorschach’s head, catching painfully on his wet hair and plunging his vision into blurs of green. He made a questioning sound and Dan released his bottom lip to pant against his face.

“Advantage of sight,” he said, fumbling with the settings. The blurs spun nauseatingly and then cleared. The tangle of metal around them sprang into focus behind Dan. “For you. Made all this to make it hard for me. Dark will make it harder. You can see, you can get away while I’m still running into things.” Another kiss and a hungry mewl around Rorschach’s tongue before he gasped. “Just in case.”

The flashlight was turned off and everything went green through the goggles. It didn’t matter. Rorschach’s eyes closed behind them as hands slid under his shirt. He felt Dan’s mouth drag down his throat to his shoulder. His teeth were under control for the moment, only nipping gently between licks. His fingernails weren’t so careful. Rorschach felt them dig into his back and trace his ribs back around to his chest. They weren’t breaking the skin, but Rorschach could feel the red lines they left until teeth caught on a nipple and made him whine. 

Dan was pulling Rorschach’s undershirt up over his arms, but left it around his neck, maybe as padding against another bite. Dan kissed his throat through the fabric and Rorschach quivered. He leaned in to press his own mouth against Dan’s neck and felt the answering purr. Still unnaturally warm, the skin tasted like heat and sweat with the undercurrent of blood. Rorschach remembered the dream again just as Dan’s nails dragged down his stomach and he flinched in spite of his resolve.

Dan made a sound that was probably meant to soothe and Rorschach felt hot breath move down his body, leaving his hands empty until he wound them in Dan’s hair. How terrifying would it be to run his hands down his neck to his shoulder and find no bare skin, only more hair, a full pelt under his hands? He would have to open his eyes in time to see the fangs flash for his throat. A popping sound startled him and he did look then. Dan had given up fumbling with his pants button in the dark and had just pulled it until it gave. He pressed his face into the open V, sucking in a deep breath of Rorschach’s scent.

“Daniel!” It was a breathless squeak and a smile quirked Dan’s lips before his tongue lapped out over thin fabric and aching flesh. Rorschach jerked away, trying to hide his reaction and get it out of reach long enough to stop making that high-pitched sound. Dan didn’t try to turn him back around. He just hooked an arm around Rorschach’s waist and pulled him close again. 

“Don’t fight me.” Dan‘s voice was hot in his ear. “If you don’t- if you can’t… Just run. Get away. But don’t fight me. I don‘t know what I‘ll do.” 

The steady furnace of his body heat pulled back enough to allow Rorschach’s remaining clothes to be tugged down and off. Rorschach willed himself not to struggle. He knew he wouldn’t be able to relax, too torn between fire and fear, but he was determined not to cower. Dim recollections made it a struggle as hands slid over him. Had that really happened to him as a child or was it just something he had been afraid of? It didn’t matter. He was not afraid of Dan, he reminded himself. He wasn’t going to relax and had no expectations of enjoying it, but he would see it through. Bear it. 

The hands gripped and squeezed, lifting his hips up backwards. Rorschach gulped down a deep breath and let himself be positioned, head down and back arched up in invitation. Only the knowledge that it was pitch black and not even Dan could see him made the humiliation bearable. He was so braced for the entrance of a hard pressure that the warm flick of Dan’s tongue undid all his mental fortitude. Pain had never made him gasp as hard as that did, and he tried to spin around, but Dan held him still. 

The tongue stroked over him again, wetter and slicker and softer than the intrusion he had expected. It pressed in, then was followed by tiny little licks awakening sensitive nerves that had never been given such attention. Rorschach heard the high-pitched sound he made and bit his lip to stop it. 

This shouldn’t be happening. Humans didn’t-shouldn’t- do this to each other and Dan would never really want this in his right mind and the only right thing to do was to stop it, but the third lick, slower and more exploratory, sent his own mind skittering.

“Don’t!” he whimpered when he could pull some consonant sounds together. "Daniel…” He squirmed but wasn’t able to break free and had to look back over his shoulder. In the night vision, Dan’s eyes were all pupil, black and vacant-looking. “Don’t have to do that. You shouldn’t-”

Rather than argue, Dan’s grip tightened and he spread Rorschach a little wider, sinking his tongue in. Rorschach bit back another scream. It was disgusting and defiling and he was never going to forgive either of them for this, but when he tried to squirm away again, Dan growled and the vibration went even deeper than his tongue. Rorschach buried his face in the old seat cushions and let his struggling go internal. He tried to shut it down, just let his body react without the panic, but the hand on his hip slid around to squeeze and stroke. Rorschach’s gasps rose into moans.

Dan’s teeth pinched through the shirt again and the sudden sting made Rorschach arch. Dan held him steady, one hand still pumping. He was murmuring something, hungry desperate words all out of order, until Rorschach drowned them out with a hoarse cry as he came. Dan let him collapse and then rolled him to his back. He was panting Rorschach’s name and there was a wild light in his blown pupils. 

“Rorschach,” he whispered. “Rorschach. Now. Mine. Now.”

Still dazed from his release, Rorschach couldn’t say yes or take me or any of the things that he was afraid he had already wailed in the throes. He arched up instead, hooking a leg over Dan’s in the dark. No explanation was needed and Dan sank into him with a snarl.

It was not what Rorschach had expected. The first full thrust left him rigid and hissing. The pressure burned and the pace was relentless. Over him, Dan’s body moved in a frantic rhythm. His fingernails were dug into Rorschach’s shoulders and his head was thrown back so his expression couldn’t be seen. Rorschach held his palms to Dan’s body to feel the muscles straining. His own body was responding in waves now, rolling to meet each thrust and letting the burn build and melt into something electric. 

He let his head loll back too, pressing against Dan’s chest and changing the angle enough to make them both whimper. He slid his hands to Dan’s back just to hang on. Under his fingers, he felt the spine shift, vertebrae expanding and stretching the ribcage with it. No. Not that. Not yet! Fear slammed through him, tightening his whole body and making Dan shriek. He sank his nails in as if that would hold the changing spine in its original shape and Dan came with a howl that reverberated through the tunnel. 

Every muscle in his body realigned and expanded, stretching Rorschach until he gurgled. The orgasm shook them both and when Dan finally slumped, his anatomy collapsed back to normal with him. His weight pinned Rorschach to the cushions and they lay panting together. No fur bristled under his fingers and Dan had gone limp and relaxed against him. He let his eyes close behind the goggles again. he hadn’t realized he had dozed until he felt hands lightly roaming and woke up.

“You don‘t smell like blood,” Dan murmured. “I didn‘t bite you.” He raised his head to blindly nuzzle at Rorschach’s ear. 

“No,” Rorschach whispered. 

“Still want to,” Dan sighed. “Just to mark you. So no one else can have you.” Rorschach shivered and Dan’s fingers traced his throat. 

“Wouldn’t let anyone else,” he grouched and Dan rumbled happily. He tried to kiss Rorschach, who dodged it. “Know where that’s been,” he said with as much disapproval as he could manage. 

“Kiss me then. Anywhere.” There was a hopeful plea in Dan’s voice, like he really didn’t expect Rorschach to reciprocate. Rorschach felt a pang at that and only hesitated a moment before pressing a row of chaste smooches down Dan’s neck. 

“Bite down,” Dan whispered suddenly. “Hard.”

“Bad idea,” Rorschach gasped. “Pain and blood may trigger change early. May bite me back. Too risky.”

The hypocrisy of that statement wasn’t lost on either of them. Dan didn’t answer, but Rorschach felt him swallow as his grip tightened. 

“Just enough to mark me,” Dan said. “Please.” He tilted his head and Rorschach couldn’t suppress the tingle of power at having a monster submit and beg for his ownership. 

"Will heal too fast to matter," he said, but he wasn't arguing. He trembled against Dan’s throat for a heartbeat and then sank his teeth in with a growl of his own.


	16. Chapter 16

Everything ached. The day had passed in a blur of sex and whispers. They dozed in each others’ arms when exhaustion set in until one woke the other up with kisses. Time was passing, though. The moon was rising. Rorschach could feel it singing through Dan’s body as night grew closer, but he was as reluctant to leave as Dan was to let go of him. Finally, they both felt the muscle cramp that was deep and wrenching enough that it couldn’t be ignored. 

“Hungry,” Dan wheezed, when he could speak again. “Will you go pick up some more food? There‘s money in my pockets.” It was a flimsy excuse, even if it was obviously true, designed to give Rorschach a graceful retreat. They both knew it. 

“No,” Rorschach said. “I’ll wait. We’ll go together.” A faint pop came from Dan’s knuckles. “Too much chance I’ll be followed again.” 

“Just go, then,” Dan sighed. “Before it gets worse.” The mark on his neck had faded to a faint bruise and Rorschach kissed it before pulling away. He staggered to his feet, felt his joints buckle, and the chill air on his skin. He scooped up the bag with his street clothes and picked his way through the tangle to the spiked window. Behind him, his name was whispered, a faint sound of longing. When he looked back, Dan wasn’t in sight, but something moved behind the railings. He tossed the bag through the window and had to concentrate on getting his exposed body past the peeled back metal. He didn’t want to cut himself and leave the scent of blood in the air. 

Once outside, he could hear Dan move restlessly around in the nest. The sound of the seat cushion being ripped startled him and he hurried out of reach of the window. Dan’s voice was barely audible, murmuring to himself as he paced. Out in the tunnel, Rorschach shivered. After the day of full contact, he felt bereft and lonesome without hands and body on him. He started pulling on the clothes Dan had bought him. Inside the car, he could hear Dan’s breathing turn harsh. It sounded much farther away than he was. 

“Daniel?” he called without stepping closer. 

“No,” the whisper became a groan. “No, no, no… “

“Don’t let it hurt,” Rorschach whispered back. He weighed his next words and winced as he said them, “Pointless to fight. Safe place. Let it happen.” There was another moan and a wet sounding creak that he remembered. It would be the small joints first, suddenly too big for their sockets. Then the larger joints would start ripping through the skin. Another sound of pain set Rorschach’s teeth on edge. “It’s all right,” he said uselessly. “It’s safe.” 

Dan only answer was a scream. There was a clang, probably from colliding against the railing barrier. Rorschach backed away to the far wall and sat against it, facing the window. He couldn’t see into the depths, but he could hear the bones cracking and the muscles tearing in between Dan’s increasingly guttural cries. Rorschach could feel his own heart jumping in his throat and ears. 

Dan was changing. The person he trusted most in the world was becoming something that could tear him apart. Would he? Rorschach wasn’t willing to risk it now. Terror hammered against his ribs, making his breath gasp and his hands shake. Any moment now, the monster would appear in the window. It would see him and try to get out, get at him. It would be ravenous and all the love Rorschach hadn’t admitted to wouldn’t stop it from ripping him open and eating his heart. More screams and bangs from inside and he felt a little sick with dread.

There was the rising shriek of pain that trailed off into a howl and then a thud of something heavy collapsing. Some dust slid down around the window. If it- if Dan got out, he would kill Rorschach. He found himself imagining it, letting the horror in so that it wouldn’t be a shock when it happened. Would he have time to tell the creature anything before he was gutted and would Daniel remember it if he did? It was cruel maybe to leave a lover with nothing but a last goodbye gasped around teeth in your throat, but just the thought of referring to man or beast as his lover had Rorschach struggling with himself. 

Silence made him look up. Two glowing eyes stared back at him from the window. It was far enough back from the spikes that he couldn’t make out any details, but he could feel the vibration of the contained violence even across the tunnel. It was looking at him, just looking, and he licked his dry lips and swallowed.

“Daniel,” he whispered and it exploded. He heard the squelch as it impaled itself on the spikes and screamed at it, part horror, part warning. “Don’t!” If it heard or understood or felt any pain, there was no sign. It was roaring at him, snarling, snapping, trying to force the massive body through the window. Only the head would fit, but Rorschach still huddled against the wall. Saliva sprayed out of its mouth but none reached him, and he reminded himself that it was Dan. He wondered if he was as unrecognizable to it as it was to him now. Maybe if he had been there during the Change, the association of him as what? Pack mate? Mate? would’ve remained. 

It, Dan, heaved itself back out of sight and he heard the sounds of metal on meat as it pulled itself off the spikes. It wasn’t silver, Rorschach reminded himself, wouldn’t kill him, but the snarling whimper made him wince. The eyes came back. Dan couldn’t see him, he realized. He had been lunging toward the sound of his voice. Dan leaned back out, carefully this time. His ears swiveled toward the hiss of Rorschach’s breathing, nostrils quivering. What did he smell like? Food? Sex? He saw the tongue flick out, wetting the nose to enhance sensitivity. 

“Over here,” he whispered and the ears strained toward him. “Still here.” Dan snarled, fangs long and wet. “I won’t leave. No matter what you turn into.” The snarl rose to a growl. This time it was a clawed arm that lunged out, slashing furrows in the ground, trying to reach him. He was tempted to touch it. The claws wouldn’t infect him, but the smell and taste of his blood might make things worse, so he leaned against the wall and waited. The car rocked as Dan tried to find a way out. He would be quiet for long intervals, testing seams and the spikes, then would explode into frenzies, battering himself in sprays of his own blood against the only opening. 

Eventually, he was forced to settle down. Rorschach winced when he got a glimpse of the injuries over Dan’s throat and shoulders. One of the spikes had broken off in his neck and wobbled with the force of his heartbeat. Rorschach hoped it would heal up before he turned back. He didn’t want to see that injury on human Dan. 

The night passed and he caught himself dozing off and on. Each time, he looked up to see the werewolf watching him quietly. It only snarled and snapped at him when he spoke. Why was it still when he was? Why would it watch him so peacefully when he was asleep and rage when he acknowledged it? A memory came to him then, of watching Dan sleep at his work desk and then growling at him for wasting time to cover up the rush of embarrassment when caught. 

“I don’t know why either,” he said. The tongue flicked over the damp muzzle again, but this time there was no outburst. They settled in to wait until morning.

 

Rorschach had lost track of time, but knew it must be close to morning when he heard retching. He hadn’t seen Dan for awhile. There had been a few more metal-clawing tantrums, but for the past hour (two hours?) no sign or sound. The heaves sounded dry and he started calculating the fastest route to any food. He hoped that having nothing in his stomach meant that Dan wouldn’t have anything to foul the car with. They might be able to use it again that way. 

Turning back was faster. Maybe it was easier for Dan’s body to return to its original shape than it was to twist into a new one. Whatever it was, he heard the crunch of an entire skeleton contracting and it wasn’t long before the yowls and howls sounded like human gasps and sobs. 

“Daniel?” he called, nearly biting his tongue. Dan might not be in any shape to answer, but he couldn’t bear to sit and listen to the suffering without at least saying something. He heard a whine and then a dazed, shaken voice.

“Are you ok?” Dan said. 

“Fine. How’s your neck?” Rorschach could almost hear him swallow hard. 

“Bloody,” Dan whispered. “But there’s blood everywhere. Is… is it all mine?”

“Not mine,” Rorschach told him. “Has to be. Are you hurt?”

“Everything hurts,” Dan appeared at the window, human this time, looking like death warmed over in the night vision. He also looked famished, just too weak to act on it. 

“Come out when you can.” Rorschach said. He turned on the flashlight again, only to clamp a hand over it when the brightness made them both cringe. “Get you clean, get you fed. Meet back up with Archie.” 

It was excruciating to see a weak and fumbling Dan try to drag his exhausted self over the spikes without getting hurt. Being so slippery with blood didn’t help. The wounds from the spikes had healed down to marks, but in the damp chill, the blood hadn’t dried. Thoughts of finding food skittered to where they could find enough water to get Dan clean. He looked like someone had cut his throat and forgotten to tell him. Anyone who saw him like this would call him an ambulance. 

He staggered out and rolled clear of the window. Rorschach helped him up. He was groggy and trembling and his joints kept trying to go back to all fours. Rorschach didn’t want to get blood all over himself, but didn’t resist when Dan leaned in and kissed him. It tasted like copper and fever-heat and Dan didn’t mind licking the blood smears off him afterwards. Rorschach used his undershirt to wipe as much blood off Dan as possible so that he could at least put on some clothes without ruining them and they limped down what felt like miles of tunnel back to a working subway station. 

There was a public bathroom thankfully, and Dan slid into it to wash off anything visible. Lurching back out, he didn’t look any worse than any other drunk after a hard night. It was still early and the smell of baking bread bee-lined Dan to an all-night bakery before they closed for the morning clean-up. While Rorschach squinted at a sign that said ‘All we Knead is Love’, Dan bought a mixed bag of whatever was left. They took it outside to eat it, sitting on some stairs. 

“Thought you’d want meat,” Rorschach said, picking a pastry. 

“I do,” Dan said with his mouth full. “But I couldn’t wait much longer. This’ll buy some time.” 

The food helped. His shaking stopped and once finished, they made their way back to the utility closet where Rorschach had left the rest of his costume. He bagged most of it, but pulled the trench coat on. It was still damp, but he barely had it on before Dan suddenly grabbed his shoulders. 

“What is that?” he asked and plucked something from the collar of the trench coat. They both looked at it. It was about the size of a fingernail and shaped like a dart. Rorschach felt his stomach tighten. He knew what it was before Dan even said it. “Tracking device.” The two words were growled and Rorschach was every bit as furious. He had known he was being followed, but he hadn’t felt the dart hit his collar. If he had worn his whole uniform back, they could’ve tracked him to Dan. It made him a little sick. He looked up to see Dan held the device to his nose. 

“Can you-?” he asked, but Dan’s face had gone stormy. 

“Cigar smoke,” he growled.


	17. Chapter 17

Dan crunched the device’s casing under his thumbnail and pried it open. There was a twist of purple wire inside and the gleam of a tiny pulsing light. 

“Veidt and Comedian,” Rorschach whispered. “Spoke to Veidt. Was sure I was being followed, but I lost them.” Dan was silent, turning the pieces in his fingers. “Confront them.”

“Not yet,” Dan said. He plucked the wire out and the tiny light went dim. “Food and sleep first. Then we make some calls.” Still a little queasy at the thought of how easily he could’ve betrayed his partner, Rorschach didn’t argue. They merged back in with the herd of people leaving the subway and made their way back onto the street. The sky was still gray and overcast and the pavement was wet, but the rain had stopped for the time being. 

The smell of hot grease steered them across the street to a diner. Rorschach could see Dan swallowing as his mouth watered and hurried to keep up. The breakfast menu consisted of different meat and egg sandwiches and Dan ordered three for himself before nodding to Rorschach. Rorschach picked something with egg and cheese, and they sat quietly until the waiter was gone. They both still looked terrible and Rorschach had an eye out for anyone who might challenge them, but began to realize the diner wasn’t exactly swanky. 

The tables were scarred, the booth seat covers were cracked and faded. The sign just said ‘Diner’ and the three other people in the place were as tired and willing to be overlooked as they were. An old unkempt man was counting quarters in the corner booth, probably a panhandler buying an egg and hash brown sandwich from his cup of change. There was a woman nursing a cigarette over her newspaper, as frizzy-haired and sharp-eyed as a poodle, and a man so nondescript his shadow was more noticable against the wall than he was slumped in his chair. 

Their waiter came back with their food and a bottle of ketchup, ending the observations. They dug in. Dan grew calmer and more thoughtful with every bite. Rorschach watched him, but didn’t talk until they were thanking the waiter and heading out to the sidewalk again. 

“You have a plan,” he said.

“I think so,” Dan agreed. “Two can play at this game.”

He hailed a cab and it took them back to his house. He went straight for the shower and seemed genuinely surprised when Rorschach refused to join him. The threat of surveillance was still eating at him. 

“One of us should keep watch,” he said. He could tell Dan wanted to argue but he could also see the weariness hanging off him, could feel it in his own bones. Dan ended up just nodding and going in alone while Rorschach paced the halls. He heard a groan over the sound of running water and acknowledged the ache it sent through him. He leaned his forehead against a window to cool it, watched a few cars go by. 

It could be over. If he had been followed. Dan could be captured now, maybe dead. What would they have done with him? Held him hostage for Dan’s compliance? Locked them in together so that Dan killed him and then used that guilt against him? It left Rorschach dizzy, made him aware of the wounds that weren’t healed yet, of the new sore spots from their day together, made him want to scream or throw up or rush into the bathroom to be sure Dan was still there. 

The door opened. He didn’t jump outwardly, but he felt like he had. Dan stepped out in a towel, steam still rising from his hair and shoulders.

“Your turn,” he said. His hand clapped Rorschach’s shoulder and then trailed down his arm as he went by, but Dan kept going downstairs. Rorschach showered, dazed by the heat and the thought of who had just been in there. He dressed in his jeans and shirt again before heading downstairs. He heard the tv and found his partner staring intently at the news. 

“It’s not just me,” he said, and Rorschach sat beside him to stare at the footage of blood-stained police tape at the scene of a slaughter in a warehouse. It was unclear how many people were actually dead, the reporter was saying. They would have to wait to learn more. 

“Not long, they won’t.” Dan almost chuckled. Rorschach stared at him, mind in a whirl, but he turned off the tv and collapsed back on the couch. “Sleep,” he said. It wasn’t an order. “Think about it later.”


	18. Chapter 18

He knew he was dreaming because he was too small to reach the light switch and he could hear her down the hall. She was grunting and groaning and calling the man an animal. That wasn’t unusual. He stood in the hall, unable to go back to bed or venture to the slit of light under her door. He looked down at his feet, saw plump little toes peeking out from under his oversize shirt. Had he ever really been so tiny? 

The sounds rose into greedy, wet noises and suddenly his mother’s voice wasn’t pretending any more. She screamed and screamed until her voice gurgled out. He was still frozen in place. The splashing, slurping sounds went on, an occasional crunch making goose bumps rise on his bare arms and legs. Then he heard the bedsprings squeal and a heavy thump on the bare floor. There was silence and then the door was knocked open. 

He could see dark splatters gleaming on the wall and then a narrow, pointed snout appeared, sniffing noisily. The werewolf noticed him at once and stepped the rest of the way into the hall. It wasn’t Dan, not brown and golden-eyed. Dan would never've done that with her. This thing had dark patches on its eyes and face. It bared its teeth at him in a grin that continued up its jaw like a scar and began to move toward him. 

Rorschach wasn’t really afraid even though he knew was supposed to be. He was dreaming. He realized this. The creature stopped. Its eyes left him, flicking up over his head. Rorschach turned to look, knowing it was stupid to take his eyes off it, but unable not to. The creature towering over him from behind was familiar. It slapped him to the floor with one massive paw and held him there. It didn’t hurt. Maybe it should have. 

Dan wasn’t looking at him. He was staring at the other monster, lips pulled in a snarl. Rorschach had to arch his neck back to see it too. The stranger was charging. Rorschach could feel the growls vibrating around him like a train passing by, felt the claws holding him down dig in. He felt his skin stretch and then give as it was punctured, heard the sound it made, but it still didn’t hurt. And then the monsters clashed over him, teeth and claws tearing into each other. 

Blood splashed down like rain. Rorschach still lay there. Had he ever thought Dan’s other form was beautiful? This was bestial and blood-soaked, flesh shredding and gore spraying until one of them hit the floor in a meaty splash. The winner came back to peer down at him. It was Dan, of course, face a mask of blood. He lowered his head to sniff at Rorschach’s face. Hot blood dripped down, spattering him worse than his freckles. Dan’s tongue lapped over his mouth once and then flicked against his neck. It was just a taste, but then the bite came. Fangs sank in without warning and Rorschach shivered. He knew it hurt, even if he couldn’t feel it. If he lived, he wouldn’t have to wonder anymore. There’d be no question. They’d be the same. 

The high-pitched sounds of a phone being dialed woke him up the rest of the way. He had slumped over in his sleep, coming to rest against Dan’s shoulder. Dan had adjusted for him, hooking an arm around to pillow his head. His brushed his knuckles over Rorschach’s cheek when he saw he was awake, gave him a smile, and then spoke into the phone. 

He had called Laurie first. He warned her that he was about to ask a stupid question, then asked her if she was aware of being monitored by the government. She laughed outright, mocking and shrill enough for Rorschach to hear. Dan told her he had found tracking devices and asked her if any of her superiors had mentioned interest in what her fellow masks were up to. Rorschach held his breath to hear her answer. Her voice became indignant. They weren’t her bosses, she said. Dan just asked her to mention it to Jon when she had a chance. His voice was grave, bordering on angry, and Rorschach could tell that that was what sank in. She promised she would and they both hung up. 

Dan took a deep breath and his fingers stroked over Rorschach’s ear. Then, he called Veidt. He had to wait on hold for over twenty minutes for someone to take him seriously enough to mention to the boss that he was on the phone and then another ten for Veidt to get to him. Rorschach got up to pace when he heard Veidt’s voice, too angry to grumble. Adrian greeted him politely, but Dan got to the point. 

“What you do with your technology is your own business,“ he said. “But I would appreciate it if you could help me with some information. HORUSTech is one of your subsidiaries isn’t it? Would you be able to tell me who they are supplying tracking devices to?” There was a pause after that and Dan went on. “I found one in Archie and I admit to waxing paranoid about it. Is it just me being watched or is somebody trying to spy on masks?” Whatever Adrian said, it wasn’t loud enough for Rorschach to hear. Dan smirked a little. “I lifted a finger print off it,“ he said. “I have a data base of fingerprints to run it through, but it’ll be a few hours before that’s complete and there’s no way to tell if it’s someone I have on file anyway.”

Rorschach hadn’t realized the equipment downstairs could do that. Unless that was another lie. Still, Dan’s voice wasn’t giving anything away besides grave concern. He said ‘uh-huh’ a few times and then thanked Veidt for his time and hung up.

“He says he’ll let us know what he can find out,” he said, stretching his legs. 

“If they know you know, they’ll come here to stop you from realizing-” Rorschach began, but Dan threw off the towel and stood up naked. 

“They’ve got another blood trail to follow now,” he said. “And so do we.”

“If that mess on the news really is somebody in the same boat as us, then we should find them and figure out what to do,“ Dan said. He was heading down his basement stairs, still without a stitch of clothing. “Assuming it’s his first change, that means he was probably bitten by the kid before he followed you. If it was before that, we would’ve seen more signs. I’m no one to pass judgment about killing the first few times, but if we can stop it, it’s for the best, and either way, we can’t let him be captured.”

“Hospital,” Rorschach said suddenly. “Boy escaped last full moon. Woman said they had to sedate him to examine him. Maybe he bit one of them.”

“And that would be something our other friends might not know about,” Dan said with a grin. He started pulling his uniform on. “But if he escaped on the first night, they would’ve changed the next. Wouldn’t we have heard about more killings?”

“Maybe not the first one,” Rorschach said grimly. “Big city. And after may have locked self away. But month has passed. Might not’ve had a clear memory of what happened. Could be in denial or just didn’t realize, or just decided there was no holding back. Gave in. Ran wild.” 

He couldn’t see Dan’s face. Dan had turned away to suit up, but the silence was heavy and thoughtful. Dan had never asked to be let out once he was contained. Rorschach thought of old movies halfway seen, of monsters begging their unaltered companions to release them. Dan knew better than that. Even at his worst, he had never wheedled to be let go. 

Rorschach ran his finger over the puncture in his lapel. Dan had lured him close enough to bite that one time, but as Dan had also said many times since then, Rorschach should’ve known better. Dan had never lied though. Even then, his intentions had been plain. He had been honest about all the things he wanted, which made Rorschach all the more aware of the weight of things unsaid on his tongue. While he struggled with that, Dan started up some of the equipment in his workshop, maybe to make it look like the fictional fingerprint search was going on. So much for never lying, Rorschach thought, smirking a little. 

“Don’t have much time to look,” he said aloud. “Before.” The last word dripped with meaning. Dan was pulling the cowl up, but he nodded. 

“Keep our eyes on the clock,” he agreed. “Let's go.” 

Rorschach directed them back to the hospital. The woman at the front desk was not the one Rorschach remembered, and she wasn’t nearly as forthcoming. She claimed she didn’t know about the boy, of anyone bitten, and she wasn’t about to tell them who had called in sick afterwards if they had been. Nite Owl wasn’t much help. His nostrils had flared wide as soon as they walked in and he grew more and more agitated the longer they wasted standing there. Rorschach put two and two together and changed his questions.

“Spoke to another woman here last month,” he said. “She still works here?”

“Yeah, but she called in with a migraine last night and hasn’t been back. Check back tomorrow.”

“Is there any way you can tell us how to reach her?” he asked, but he knew there wasn’t. Sure enough, she gave him a look and told him if that if she ever found out any coworkers gave out her address or home number to strangers, and there was a definite edge to that word, that there would be lawsuits and eyes gouged out. Nite Owl made a frustrated, angry sound and she glared at him. He glared back and Rorschach saw her throat bob with an involuntary gulp.

“If you want to leave a number for her to call, I’ll leave her a message,” she finally said and that was as good as it was going to get, so they had to agree. They left a contact number and went on again. Rorschach was relieved to see her pick up the phone as soon as they were out the door. Hopefully she would call the other woman and pass on the message quickly. He mentioned it to Nite Owl, who swept back to Archie with another snarl.

“Could you tell? Did you smell something?“ Rorschach asked, forced to hurry to keep up. 

“I don’t know if she was the one, but something has been in there,“ Nite Owl grumbled. “Can feel it in my nose and in the back of the throat. Smells like heat and blood. Wanted to shake her, but that would’ve made it worse.“

Rorschach couldn’t help but check the sky. The sun was still bright. Still a few hours before the moon rose. What was the difference? Was the moon more full the second night? The true full moon? Last second night of the full moon, he had been hunted across the roof tops and nearly killed, after all. 

“How do you feel?” he asked. Nite Owl shook his head and didn‘t answer until they were in the ship. 

“Not going to be able to do this much longer,” he said. 

Once in the air and on the move, he punched in some coordinates and then got up to pace. Rorschach watched him begin to peel his uniform off and saw the gleam of sweat underneath. There was still enough time to follow more leads, but not if he was this antsy. While he grunted and grumbled about not being able to stand feeling it against him, Rorschach quietly switched seats. He sat in the pilot seat and waited, mind in a whirl, pulse seeking out all the parts of him that were still sore. 

When Dan had finally shed enough clothes to tolerate his own skin again, he turned and found his seat taken. Rorschach looked uncharacteristically small and prim in the chair and didn’t look up when Dan loomed over him.

“You just can’t help but push your luck, can you?” Dan voice wasn’t amused, and it carried the territorial rumble Rorschach had last heard directed at the Comedian. It caused a flutter of unease in his belly. What if he was wrong about this? He shouldn’t have just assumed. Just because it had been him that Dan had wanted last time didn’t mean that that would be the case every time. He answered the question-that-wasn’t to stop that line of thought. 

“No,” he said. “I can’t. Know better. Just can’t.” He finally looked up and found Dan’s face inches from his. He pressed two fingers to Dan’s neck, feeling the heat and the pulse through his gloves.

“Your mark is gone,” he said. “Healed away in one night. But.” Rorschach tilted his head, pulling the scarf down and the mask up to bare his throat. He didn’t miss the deep exhale that movement prompted. He knew the mark of teeth and suction was still on his own neck and felt Dan’s breath on it. Goosebumps rose under his clothes and his voice trailed into a whisper. “I still belong to you.”

The shock of saying that out loud splashed over him and he shuddered. His wrist was suddenly seized before he could pull it back and a mouth hot enough to burn closed over the bruise on his neck.

Rorschach’s head lolled to the side and the rest of him went loose in the chair. His hat slid to the floor as Dan’s weight made the chair tilt back. Dan’s knee slid forward gently and firmly and Rorschach felt his thighs spread to cradle it. 

How could it be so easy? He had always condemned being weak enough to even feel such wantonness, much less act on it, and now here he was, back arching and hips lifting as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Maybe it was. Maybe everyone was like this underneath, just a cavernous need that only needed a taste to awaken. It wasn’t fair to have held out this long and crumble so completely and he knew better than to expect it to be. 

Teeth scraped across the sore mark on his neck, pressing in hard without biting down. Rorschach heard the sucking sound before he felt the aching skin drawn tight against them. It stung and the throb of pain went deeper and hotter down to his belly. Dan seemed to sense it because the hand clutching Rorschach’s leg slid up to press against his stomach. Rorschach pulled in a shaky inhale and released it again in a hiss. He knew he wasn’t as big or solid as Dan, but he was starting to wonder if maybe the reason the costume was so uncomfortable was because it actually didn’t fit at the moment. The moon was full and swollen with power and maybe Dan was too. Rorschach did feel small and thin pinned under him. Dan blocked the whole view, left nothing to look at or touch but his own body.

More drawing kisses trailed up to Rorschach’s mouth and a burning hot tongue stroked against his through the mask. He gasped and his hand came up against Dan’s chest on reflex more to steady himself than push away, but Dan’s eyes widened and went three shades more yellow.

“Stop flinching,” he said. It was part order and part plea. “I want you to want it too.” Rorschach quivered, then pulled off his mask to look up into Dan’s face. He wanted to look steady and calm so that Dan could relax as well, but he could feel himself trembling. He wanted to say that he did want it, that Dan was the only one he had ever wanted, that no one else would ever-, but he had to pull in another deep breath to steady himself and before he could get the words in order, Dan was kissing him again. 

“Look at you,” Dan whispered against his mouth. “Couldn’t see you before. Felt the way you moved, heard the sounds you made, smelled the heat and fear rising off you. Couldn’t see you though. Had to imagine the way you were looking at me and hope you weren’t just tolerating it out of pity.”

“No…” Rorschach panted. Dan’s fingernail felt razor-sharp as the tip dragged along the underside of his bottom lip. “Not that. I.” He swallowed and the fingernail trailed down to his throat. “Worried that it was only the moon. That once it waned it would be over and you wouldn’t… that it would be-” He faltered for the right word. “ Temporary.” 

“The moon is never gone,” Dan said, mouth moving to his ear. The whisper was warm and wet before the tongue flicked after it. “Just because you only see a piece of it at a time doesn’t mean the whole thing isn’t still there. It’s every bit as big and round on the new moon as it is the full. It never goes away. The tides never stop. That’s permanent.” His hands slid down to cup and lift Rorschach off the seat and the next kiss was tonsil-deep. It lasted until Archie shuddered as he dove into river and movement jarred them both enough to come up for air. 

“You want me.” It wasn’t a question and in any other situation Rorschach would’ve resented the alpha male arrogance behind that statement, but he couldn’t really deny it, not even to teach his partner a lesson in tact. Now was not the time for tact, and the cold truth was that the only response he could manage was to press harder against Dan’s hands.

There was another lurch as Archie burst back out of the water in down the tunnel to the Nest. As absorbed as he was, Dan’s head flew up. He squinted at the light from the Nest through the round windshields and a growl tore out him.

“Lights are wrong,“ he hissed through his teeth. “Someone’s here.”


	19. Chapter 19

Through the windshields, they could see the Comedian was there, idly flipping through one of Dan’s journals. He had been using a spare set of goggles as an ash tray while he waited and cocked an eyebrow at the ship as if he had been kept waiting a long time. 

“Stay here,” Dan hissed. “Keep quiet.” He was yanking on his uniform. Rorschach made a confused sound, fumbling for his mask. “No. I don’t want him to know you’re here. Let him see me alone.” He dropped of the ship and made a purely New York ‘what-the-hell-you-think-you’re-doing’ gesture.

“Well, well, well,” the Comedian drawled, dropping the book to the desk top. “Daniel Dreiburg.”

“Eddie,” Dan said, stalking over. They stopped just out of arm’s reach of each other. Rorschach had crept to the edge of a window, leaning in the arch to keep himself out of sight. Blake was in full gear, guns at each hip. Rorschach saw them speak, but could barely hear what was said. 

Dan’s voice rose, but he wasn’t really angry. When he half turned, Blake lunged at the opening to grab him. It was a standard pin move used often on criminals and Rorschach didn’t even have a chance to gasp before Dan had rolled into the move and unloaded a shovel hook straight into Blake’s side. Blake was in his armor, but Dan knew enough about his own suit to know where a hit would drive the seams and buckles into muscles and against bones. It might not’ve broken ribs, but it hurt judging by the way Blake’s eyes went wide under his mask. Before he recovered, Dan was back up, uppercut first. The cigar went flying. 

Rorschach saw them clash in a frenzied blur. Blake’s famous wrath exploded and he rained hooks and jabs down at Dan’s head and torso. Dan’s first strike had been well-planned. Every punch from that side lacked power and was obviously painful, but the rest of Blake still fought like the meanest back alley punk the city could breed. Rorschach didn’t know Dan’s plan, didn’t want to ruin it whatever it was, was also terrified that there wasn’t a plan, and that he should be out there helping. Dan locked arms to stop the hook headed at his kidneys and Blake slammed an elbow into his jaw. The force of it knocked them apart.

They were both bloodied. Blake was favoring his side now, but his grin was sharp and fierce until Dan started to laugh. It came from down in his chest, a dark, delighted chuckle. Dan righted himself and spat out some blood. 

“This is way more fun than I expected,” he chuckled. Blake’s expression faded into something like amused disbelief. 

“You really did grow a pair, didn’t you?” he asked, breathless but still mocking. “All right. Come on.”

Dan pounced on him and they went rolling across the floor again. Rorschach didn’t know how long he was going to be able to stand watching this. He heard the crack of a bone and the cry that followed but couldn’t tell which it was until he saw Dan’s arm flop in the wrong angle as Blake kicked him back into his own desk. Blake charged him, knocking him over the top of the desk, and Rorschach stood up. He saw the flash of syringe in Blake’s hand and dove for the door. 

Dan was still laughing, something about a pool table, and Blake raised his hand to stab downwards. Dan’s good arm stabbed faster and Blake roared. He staggered back, dropping the syringe. He was screaming and swearing and clutching his face. Rorschach slid to a stop as Dan got up again. There was a new mask of blood over him and he shook something off his fingers. It splatted on the floor. It was an eye. 

Blake screamed again, more rage than pain. Rorschach made out ‘don’t need you alive’ and was springing forward again as the gun came up. Dan was lunging too, and the first shot caught him square in the chest. Rorschach saw the blossom of blood and the hole that exploded out of the cape. His mind processed notions of armor-piercing rounds and exit wounds through his horror as two more reports drowned out his scream. Two more holes erupted in Dan’s chest. 

Rorschach grabbed Blake’s arm, bending it back away from Dan, and Blake turned on him with an inhuman bellow. Then Dan hit him hard and fast and out of nowhere. The blow smashed Blake to the floor.

Dan grabbed him by the throat and threw him. Rorschach watched the big man’s body rag doll into the nearest wall and Dan was on it as soon as it hit the floor. He hit him over and over, bouncing Blake’s skull in rapid cracks on the concrete, then started clawing at the buckles at his throat. 

Rorschach’s first sickened thought was that Dan would begin eating Blake right there, but then realized he was tearing the armor off. The bullet holes were still visible in his back. Once Blake was stripped down, Dan threw him up into Archie and pushed Rorschach in after. 

“It’s early,” he panted. “Fight brought it early. Have to go.” He slammed a fist against a button and lights came on. Rorschach saw a course outlined on one of the screens. 

“Your arm,” he said faintly.

“S‘fine,” Dan growled. “Bones’ll knit when it happens.” He kicked Blake onto his face and handcuffed him behind his back. “Take him somewhere. Anywhere. Leave him.”

“Shot,” Rorschach reached to touch one of the still bleeding wounds and Dan flinched away. 

“Not silver,” he said. “Hurts, but will heal.” He paced back into his violated sanctuary and started shucking his own armor. Blood had run all over him, channeled by the lines of the armor.

“Daniel…” Rorschach started to go to him and froze when he saw Dan’s spine bulge. 

“Too late,” Dan said. He turned enough to toss his ruined cape and armor to him. “Damn them both, there’s no time. Just go. If he wakes up, tell him you took me to a hospital.” He stretched and wasn’t able to straighten all the way upright. An internal crunch made his face contort and the next words were gasped. “Might not make it to the cage. Best lock yourself in.”

He closed the door and with it sealed, Archie came to life. Rorschach had only a glimpse of Dan, naked and bloody, before they were moving again. He sat shaken in his own seat until they shot out of the river. The moon was a smudge of brightness over the horizon. Dan was loose. Fear and shock and a stunned sort of arousal left him reeling for a long moment until a muffled groan from the Comedian snapped him back into focus. 

Rorschach had seen the Comedian in battle before, had admired his strength and ruthlessness. But now, he had also seen the mad dog frenzy under the power and it had nearly cost him everything. He took a deep breath to swallow down the emotions choking him. What mattered was that Dan was alive. He was also loose. Unless he had made it through the tunnels to his cage. 

There was another werewolf, possibly a social worker at a children’s sanitarium, also loose in the city. Would they find each other? Would a female werewolf affect the ‘fight at first sight’ impulse? The thought that it might not was upsetting. But maybe Dan would make it to his cage. 

Another sound from Blake and Rorschach started punching the button that he had seen Dan use to hover. He had to get rid of the Comedian and get back to find out. The nearest, tallest building had a neon-lit V on it, which was fine. Just in case there was any doubt that they knew. 

Veidt was there on the roof waiting. Rorschach saw his silhouette as soon as the hatch opened and froze. 

“Couldn‘t resist taking the ship too?” Veidt said. He almost sounded amused until he saw who was standing there. He stopped in his tracks. He might have expected to see Archie, but not Rorschach. Rorschach went from shocked to livid so fast it felt like a slap of scalding water and Veidt’s stance turned cautious. He opened his mouth to speak again, but Rorschach kicked the Comedian’s bloodied body down to him before he could. It landed with a groan and rolled to show the empty eye socket. Veidt’s mouth opened and then shut.

“What happened?” he asked as if it wasn’t obvious. 

“Was there when Nite Owl found the device,” Rorschach heard himself say. “Know he called you about it.” He wasn’t aware of what he was going to say next. It was like an out of body experience fueled by rage instead of serenity. “Spied on him. Betrayed him.”

“Rorschach…” Veidt began. “You don’t understand.”

“Traiter.” 

“There’s more at stake than you know.”

“Wanted him out of the way? Wanted his ship?” Rorschach heard himself go guttural and felt the punctured armor clench in his fingers as he held it up to show the bullet holes. “Wanted him dead??”

Veidt had the nerve to look startled. He looked from the ruined armor to the Comedian. 

“It was never my intention-” he began, but then stopped and licked his lips. “Where is Dan?”

Rorschach snarled, then began to remember what Dan had said to say and forced the words out. “Hospital. Safe one.”

“You left him with doctors?” Veidt sounded surprised. Suspicious? “Is that wise?” He was worried about the change, Rorschach realized.

”I swear this is not what I intended,” Veidt went on and he did sound sincere. “I am working for the fate of all-”

“If my partner dies,” Rorschach growled. His hand was shaking on the door latch and he saw Veidt’s eyes flick to it. “It’s your own fate you’ll have to worry about.” He hit the button and the door slid shut, faster than it had before, thanks to Dan’s improvements. He undid the hover and Archie took off again. Rorschach dropped into his chair. He was still shaken and furious, still clutching the armor. 

He didn’t know what to do, was unsure how far Veidt’s reach really was. Hopefully, he believed the hospital story and would waste time looking for anyone admitted with gunshot wounds. Was Archie really bugged? Could Veidt stop him before he got back? The truth would die with him unless… He looked at the communicator, hesitated, and then picked it up. He had memorized all the contact numbers, but he still felt out of place dialing this one. Laurie’s voice was so perky he winced. 

“Dan?” she asked and there was a long pause. 

“…no,” he said and her voice went flat. 

“Oh.”

“He’s been shot,” Rorschach blurted out and heard her intake of breath. “Comedian. Came to the Nest. Attacked him. Shot him.”

“What??” Her voice went shrill with outrage. 

“At a hospital. Assumed name. Told them I found him on patrol.”

“Oh my God…” she moaned. 

“Veidt behind it. Found evidence of surveillance. Don’t know why, but Veidt does.”

Laurie swore furiously and Rorschach found himself too relieved by her wrath to take offense at her language. He wasn’t alone in that emotion. He was able to swallow finally, and take a deep breath. 

“WHY??” she was roaring. 

“Some plan of Veidt’s. Approached you? Spoken to you or Jon?”

“Not me. Jon hasn’t said anything.”

“Jon’s there? You’re not alone?”

“No, he’s here.” She sounded surprised at his concern. “What about you? Where’s Dan? I can come-”

“Lines of communication may be monitored,” he cut her off. She was quiet. “Will tell you when sure.”

“Ok,” she said after another pause. Then: “Be careful.”

He hung up before he had to think of anything else to say.


	20. Chapter 20

It took about an hour for Archie to complete his coordinates and head back. The sun had set behind the skyline, just a vivid line of red on the horizon. The river gleamed deep and black below him and Archie sank into the water leisurely. 

Dan had changed by now. Hopefully he had made it to his hidden cage before his mind turned feral. If not, hopefully he would be in plain sight so Rorschach would know not to get out of Archie. Rorschach's stomach flipped over at the thought of seeking out his partner with a flashlight through the subway tunnels. 

He braced himself, but there was no sign of Dan when Archie landed. Rorschach opened the door carefully and waited for an attack to come. A few moments ticked by and he stepped out. Except for the pulse pounding in his ears, it was silent. The Nest was a mess. Blood was everywhere. Papers and tools were scattered off the desk. The gun was still there, as was the syringe. Rorschach crept down and picked them both up. The gun was too big and heavy for him to carry so he left it with the Comedian’s armor. 

The syringe made him linger. What was in it? The fluid was clear, but it might still have traces of silver, couldn’t it? But no, if it had been Plan A in subduing Dan, it probably wasn‘t intended to be lethal. Not what I intended, Veidt had said and Rorschach snarled. Maybe it was a specialized tranquilizer, but what if it was more sinister? What if it had tracking devices in it? What if would permanently incapacitate Dan so that his genetics could be harvested at leisure without killing him? There was no way to be sure and Rorschach looked at it a long time before he pocketed it. 

Just in case, he told himself, but was already certain he wouldn't use it. He had the silver grappling hooks. If he ever had to defend himself against Dan, he would use those. Dan had made them for him, had intended them to save his life. The betrayal seemed less, not that it was much comfort either way. 

Something caught his eye and he looked up quickly, expecting a large shape moving too quickly to dodge. It was just a light blinking by the equipment, visible now that he had stood up again. Going over to it would corner him if Dan really was stalking him. Then again, luring Dan out would almost be a relief, just to know where he was. Still keeping a careful eye on the rest of the room, he went over. It was Dan’s untraceable answering machine. He made sure nothing was circling around behind him and pushed the button. 

A woman’s voice creaked out off the tape, so exhausted and grief-stricken he didn’t recognize it from the sanitarium. 

“If you were asking, then you know,” she said. There was a pause and then a shuddering inhale. “My baby, my grandbaby, all gone and it’s my fault. Tried to end it, but I only gave myself a headache. I don’t think there’s anything you can do, but tonight I’m going to the train tunnels. If you still want to talk to me, it needs to be before the 94 comes through.” 

There was another stretch of silence and then a click. Rorschach took a deep steadying breath. She knew. She understood. He had to think. He could go find her and what? Save her? Or just make sure Veidt never got her body? Use her to lure Veidt’s attention from Dan? Should he find Dan first? Make sure he was contained? What if he wasn’t? Hunt him down before he came to public attention? Would it lead Veidt to him faster to try to find him? Was Veidt already on his trail? What time did the 94 come through? Too much to think about, but while Rorchach’s head was so busy, his feet had started walking. 

He was heading for the cage, he knew and he stopped his internal noise to focus on listening. A caged werewolf should be very, very noisy, but the farther he went down the tunnel, the more he was aware that he couldn’t hear anything. Assume the worst, he told himself, but it didn’t stop his heart from dropping when he turned the corner and found the door of the cage wide open. The moon was up. Dan was loose. Somewhere in the tunnels. Unless he had gone back up and was on the streets, drawing attention to himself. 

Rorschach wrapped his fingers around the bars. Cold and heavy and designed to hold in a rampaging monster, he couldn’t help but despair at how useless it was if it was empty.

He headed back out, on high alert for any sign of his partner and mind in a whirl. What would Veidt expect him to do? How could he find Dan without leading anyone to him? There were likely plenty of gunshot wounds in the ERs tonight that would waste Veidt’s time checking. 

Instinct turned him toward the flashing lights and sirens and he knew what it was as soon as he came in sight. Someone had been hit by a train. The EMTs were talking, waiting for the coroner team to show up. Rorschach got close enough to eavesdrop without being seen. 

“Has to be a suicide,” one of them was saying. “They don’t smear like that unless they don’t budge when the train comes.”

“Gave the engineer a heart attack.”

“Geez. Two for the coroner, huh?”

“Just another Wednesday in the big city.” There was a jaded chuckle and then one of them noticed the swirling presence right behind him. They both jumped when they saw him. He grunted and stalked by them for a closer look. The police on the scene looked up as he approached too. They weren’t immediately hostile, but there was a wariness there that hadn’t been a year ago. Rorschach gave them a tilt of the head and went to look at the mess. There wasn’t very much left. The train had spread it all the way down the track. There weren’t any big pieces left, but the chunks he did see looked human enough. She must have turned back when she died, like the boy had. 

“Suicide,” he said. 

“Looks that way,” one of the officers said. 

“Contacted me,” he said. “Didn’t get the message until too late.”

“Yeah, no kidding!” one of them almost laughed, but sobered under a glare that morphed into something like an eagle being torn down the middle. 

“No family,” he said after a moment of letting the cop look awkward. “Cremate what’s left.”

“Tell the coroner,” the one who hadn’t spoken said. There was a challenge there and the other raised eyebrows at him. Rorschach felt a surge of frustration and anger. How could they just stand there?? Their postures, the almost-sneer, the appraising way they waited to see how he would respond was entirely too much like Topknots around a street corner. Headlights made the unmasked all wince as the coroner’s van pulled up and Rorschach bit back his rising temper to stride over and meet the investigators. 

He wasn’t the casual liar that Dan was, but he managed to give the team a story that blamed the hitman he had turned in for the disappearance of the woman’s family. She had contacted him, he said, and when her daughter and grandchild had never been found, had opted to join them. He had to admit to not knowing her name, only that she had mentioned being cremated. The agent checked off a box on the paperwork at that and wrote the rest down. It was gratifying and he was thanked for the information which set him on his way with better spirits. As he went, he saw the head coroner checking the body of the engineer and declaring it dead. Rorschach wondered if the twisted look of horror on the old man’s face meant that he had gotten a good look at what the creature on the tracks had been. 

He would have to go check later, maybe tomorrow, and see if they really intended to cremate her. Hopefully, even if they didn’t, being ground across the train tracks would render the blood and tissues unusable to Veidt’s project. He still had to find Dan. The fact that there was no trail should mean that the change had healed his wounds,but there might be more signs there now that he was calmer and thinking more clearly. And Dan would go home as soon as he came back to himself. 

He went to the front door of Dan’s house rather than venture through the tunnels. He was too distracted and upset, he told himself, wouldn’t be as alert as he absolutely needed to be. The door was unlocked which froze him in place for a moment until he rushed in to stop whoever Veidt had sent to collect blood samples from the fight. The basement door was open too, and Rorschach burst through it to jump down the stairs and over the railing. 

There was a man there holding Dan’s goggles and Rorschach tackled him down. They both hit the floor and the fist that could’ve broken his jaw grabbed his collar instead. He recognized Hollis Mason as soon as he turned and his own fist froze in midair.

“Mason,” he said, dazed with relief. Mason got up first and pulled him up by the arm.

“I got a call from Laurie,” he said, looking around at the mess. “She said-” He paused, swallowing hard. “That he’d been shot.”

Rorschach just nodded. 

“Eddie’s always been vengeful,” Mason said. “Any slight and he would just explode. I remember the night he and Nelly got into it over something. And Nelly mentioned the time the Eddie got his face busted and Eddie sneered back something about what did happen to HJ, implying that he had something to do with it. Then Nelly ended up dead.”

Rorschach hadn’t known that and felt his stomach tighten. How long had the Comedian been working against his fellow masks? Was there a reason he was the only one left of the Minutemen in action? Was that how he had so easily tracked Dan down to his nest? 

“What happened between him and Danny?” Mason asked. He looked old and fatherly and a little frightened. “Why would he-?” He gestured at the gun and the splatters.

“Not just him.” Rorschach headed for the hose. “Ozymandias. In it together. Buying children for experiments. Nite Owl found out. We investigated. Got in the way.”

“That sounds crazy,” Mason said, almost protesting. Rorschach nodded again. He didn’t know how much to tell, what Dan would want his mentor to know. He turned the water on, washing the blood off the walls and then sending it running toward the drain. 

“Child escaped. Dangerous. Sick. Attacked Nite Owl when he tried to help.” Rorschach kept hesitating. Mason was remarkably hard to lie to, especially since Dan might tell him everything later and then he would know he had been lied to. Shame made him growl and he deliberately stepped on what was left of the Comedian's eye before blasting it away with the hose. “That was when they became interested in him.“

“Crazy,” Mason repeated, more softly. Then, “Where is he? I’ll go.”

“Can’t tell you,” Rorschach said at once. 

“You know I won’t do anything to put him in danger. You know that.” 

“Shot me with a tracking dart and followed me,” Rorschach snarled, heart still raw from that failure. “May have been me that led Comedian here. Will not risk it again. Not even for you.”

There was silence after that, and Rorschach was aware of Mason slowly becoming steely. His first impulse was just to leave, disappear into the dark like he had with Dan so many times. But. Mason might linger and Dan might come home and eat him before morning. Or have to explain why he was lurching down the tunnel bloody and naked and miraculously (Rorschach hoped) no longer shot. 

“Here,” he said suddenly, grasping at a thread of an idea. He took the file of the documents they had taken from the sweatshop and shoved them over at Mason. “Haven’t had time to see which ones are legitimate and which are human trafficking receipts. Anyway to tie Veidt to this, to bring justice to his door…”

Mason knew he was being shooed away and his eyes narrowed, but he took the file and started up the stairs. Rorschach could almost hear his mind humming as he walked away and suspected Mason knew where to call to find out about John Doe’s in ER and would. That was fine. He could only misdirect Veidt that way too. He concentrated on looking for any other trace of blood, Dan’s or Comedian’s, wanting to leave nothing for any other intruder to find. 

Was it ridiculous optimism to wonder what Dan would do now that this place wasn’t a secret anymore? If he lived, if they weren’t forced to flee entirely, would he have to abandon the nest? Rebuild somewhere else? Maybe the old lounge they had slept in would work? 

When Rorschach finally was satisfied that he hadn’t missed any genetically viable splatters, he went up the stairs and made sure Mason had locked the front door on his way out. He had, of course, so Rorschach carefully locked the kitchen door too and started towards the subway entrance. Then, the corner of his eye caught something so small it didn’t even register until every hair on his body electrified. It was a tiny thing, like the flicker of a small light as he passed a wire that blocked it for a second. Or as if something with glowing eyes had blinked.

He kept walking, too on fire with adrenaline to run and refusing to look back. He tried to think past the stab of childhood fear. It was like trying to walk the long dark way to the bathroom when he was little, like in the dream when he couldn’t reach the light. Running would be too loud, too noticeable, would bring too much attention when he just wanted to be invisible. He would have to cross the open space to get to the stairs and fumble with two locks and it would be on him before he made the first landing. 

Into the dark then, into the subway tunnel, wishing he still had Dan’s goggles. He kept his pace steady until a rush of movement past the light behind him made him break into a sprint. The tunnel to the cage was closer than the ladder and he wouldn’t be able to climb fast enough to get out of reach, so he ducked to the right. He ran all the way to the cage and then stopped and looked back. 

Nothing. Had it been Dan at all? The corridor was still and dark. He waited, straining his ears to hear. There was a faint sound that could’ve been a rat or a ceiling drip or his own blood in his ears. Another moment of silence and then another very faint sound. Rorschach fumbled for his flashlight and turned it on to shine down the tunnel. The first thing it lit up were two yellow eyes and then a maw of fangs as the creature behind them snarled into the light.

It charged. The werewolf was bipedal, cresting over him like a silent wave. Rorschach lunged backwards to dodge the claws. The only place to go was into the cage and he slammed the door after himself. Its weight smashed into the door, driving it into the frame and tripping the mechanism that locked it. The force of it also knocked Rorschach backwards to the floor. It did roar then, all thwarted fury and bottomless hunger. The door slammed and shook, but it held. It was locked out. Rorschach was locked in.


	21. Chapter 21

It was Dan, but Rorschach was only now realizing that he had never seen Dan’s other form in good light and unrestrained. There seemed to be no end to him, his presence filling all available space, changing all the patterns of light and shadow into hungry grasping things. He was huge, pacing the outside of the cage while Rorschach pulled himself together. Rorschach took a deep breath, getting a hold of himself. This was bad, but he was safe for the moment. 

A rumble came from Dan. His body blocked the light as he passed. Rorschach tried speaking to him. He called Dan by name, expecting another frenzied outburst. Dan just stopped to stare at him through the bars. There was no recognition, either of the name or of Rorschach. Dan had specifically made the bars too close for his own hands to reach through, but he could get his claws in. They grated on the metal and hooked for a moment on one of the bars. 

Rorschach dared to touch them, useless as it was through the gloves. They strained to grab at him and Dan made a low sound that turned into a snap. Dan’s muzzle didn’t fit through either, and he bit savagely at the bars. Rorschach hoped he wouldn’t break a tooth off. He knew how miserable that felt. 

“Easy,“ he said. The resulting growl was spine-tingling, but he made himself step closer to the bars. He couldn’t be reached to be bitten, he told himself. The worst case scenario was that the claws would be agile enough to grab and puncture. He remembered the stitches in his legs and felt them shaking a little. He wondered what time it was. How long had he spent cleaning, talking to Mason? Had Dan already fed? He wasn’t blood-soaked, but he seemed calmer for the moment, pacing and rumbling instead of howling or slobbering. That could change at any second though. 

Time ticked by. Rorschach wasn’t sure how much time had passed before the werewolf started to loose interest. Maybe the moon had moved enough to affect him, or maybe Dan was just too hungry to waste any more time trying to get to him. Whatever the reason, with a final snarl, Dan dropped to all fours and started to pace off down the tunnel. 

“Wait!” Rorschach called after him. “No! Come back!” Dan stopped to look at him, to see what he would do, then turned away again. Rorschach panicked. There had to be a way to keep Dan from leaving, something to keep his interest. He pulled out the new silver projectile for his grappling gun. It had a sharp edge, so Rorschach yanked off his glove and slashed it across his palm. Blood dripped down immediately and the scent flared up strong. He saw Dan’s whole posture perk up. Rorschach slicked the bars with his blood and refused to step back as Dan approached. 

The rumble was low and dark in his chest and his tongue lapped at the blood. Rorschach held his hand out towards him, still out of reach, but hopefully close enough to make him try again. Dan did strain to reach him and at this close range, Rorschach could still see the marks of three injuries in the werewolf’s chest. They weren’t bleeding anymore, were hopefully healed under the fur. Rorschach was grateful that the Comedian hadn’t been armed with silver. He should’ve been if he had had any idea what he was up against. Perhaps Veidt hadn’t told him all the details, or maybe Veidt himself was still unaware of the danger he was dealing with. Then again, the Comedian may not have expected a fight. 

“Gave him one though,” Rorschach said aloud. Dan bared fangs at him. The change had left him stronger, not braver really, but maybe more reckless. He remembered when Dan had suggested that he hadn’t changed that much, just had what he already was brought to the surface. He had been brutal in the fight, but he hadn’t lost control until he was alone. 

The Comedian had been in control too until he had been hurt. Then he had exploded into screaming temper. Rorschach remembered bullies like that. It was all in good fun until someone had the audacity to hit back. Then it was like sacred law had been broken, that someone had dared raise hand to their precious selves. 

Dan stepped back suddenly and hesitated. He started to stalk away again and Rorschach had already decided what he would have to do to stop him.

As soon as Dan was out of leaping range, he reached around and opened the door. Dan stopped and looked over his shoulder. Rorschach took a step out and Dan slowly turned around. 

They were both cautious, both waiting for the other to lunge. Rorschach took another step and held out his cut hand. He was reminding himself that he couldn’t let Dan lick it. If a nick through a glove could infect Dan, a lick in an open wound would do it too. Not that that wouldn’t be the least of his worries if Dan attacked. 

The outstretched hand was shaking. It hurt, and the force of his heartbeat made his whole body vibrate. He wasn’t as terrified as he had been before. He was still hyper alert for the attack when it came, but some stupid part of him couldn’t help but hope Dan wouldn’t try. Another step and Dan lowered his head, the yellow eyes processing. The wet tongue slathered back over his chops, showing the teeth. It had already tasted his blood. 

Rorschach was clear of the door now. His other hand was on the grappling gun, but he was keeping it out sight in case some part of Dan remembered being shot. Dan was already growling softly, and his muscles rolled under the skin. He was going to pounce. Any second now. 

Rorschach forced himself to breathe. The sudden snarl, expected as it was, still made him flinch, and then there was a new sound that brought him up short. Rorschach knew it. It was the sound of a door being kicked in. Dan leaped away and was gone and Dan caught a glimpse of him taking the corner into the main tunnel, but only because all the lights were suddenly turned on. 

That had to be done from the Nest. Mason wouldn’t kick the door in. Someone else had invaded.

To his surprise, Dan hadn’t gone for the Nest, but fled down toward the subway entrance. Rorschach took off after, if only so that whoever was after Dan would catch up with him first. Dan passed the subway entrance too, heading deeper into the tunnels. Rorschach still followed, not sure what would happen if he caught up. After a blur of tunnels and turns, he stumbled out onto a public platform. No one was there. Especially Dan. There was no sign of him. He could’ve gone either way down the tracks, or up any of the access stairs. 

Rorschach turned carefully, looking for any sign or tracks or hair. There was a bright splatter down by his foot, but that was from the cut on his hand. He took a moment to wrap it with his scarf and force the glove on over it. He tied the remaining length across the palm to keep pressure on. He looked around again, no screams or gunshots. Wherever Dan was, he was out of sight. Rorschach’s best bet might be to go back to the Nest and deal with the intruder there. 

A rush of movement from behind caught his attention, but not fast enough. The first strike caught him just above his ear. Black burst across his vision and he wasn’t sure if it was his eardrum rupturing inward into his eye or if it was just the black in his mask responding with the rush of blood from that spot. He was aware of the pain, but the vertigo that followed took all his attention. He was reeling, couldn’t even stop himself from falling, didn’t know which was up or down until he collided with a wall. The next hit felt like a kick to the ribs, which mean it wasn’t Dan. It drove the air out of him but didn’t help clear his spinning vision. Rorschach lashed back as best he could and didn’t really expect to connect. He just needed to keep the attacker back a second to recover. 

His punch was blocked easily enough and fingers dug between his bicep and tricep. Pain tore through his medial nerve from wrist to shoulder, draining whatever power he might’ve been able to put behind it. Another blow smashed into his jaw and he tasted a gush of blood. His elbow finally hit the ground, another jolt of pain he barely felt compared to the rest. Even before the rest of his body had time to fall, a forearm to the throat slammed him the rest of the way down and pinned him there. A knee sank into his gut.

He had never been taken down so fast before and the shock was almost as crippling as the pain. His nerve-pinched arm was still in agony and powerless. His other arm was pressed between his weight and the sidewalk. He could feel the edge of his journal crammed into the joint of his wrist. His hand fumbled for it, pushing it back into his pocket so at least it wouldn’t be found right away. His fingers touched something else and his mind sharpened. His attacker was talking, barely audible over the roaring in his ears.

“-no inkling of the damage you have done,” hissed a male voice and Rorschach’s rattled teeth ground together. 

“Veidt,” he gasped back, disorientation burning off under the rage. The arm on his throat pushed a fraction harder just to warn him, but he ignored it. “Grkh. Pay for this.”

“The only person you’ve ever successfully lied to is yourself,” Veidt said. “I know there is no hospital you would trust your partner to. I saw Mason leave. He stopped at a payphone and then headed out of town. Answer me. Where is Dan?”

“Won‘t let you,” Rorschach wheezed out. Mason had what? Didn’t makes sense. Didn’t matter. 

“Won’t let me what?” Veidt was still talking. “You have no idea what I’m trying to achieve or the benefits to humanity.”

“Saw the boy die, Veidt,” Rorschach grated and felt the arm tense. “Deals with the devil have to be signed in your own blood, remember? Blood of innocents benefit no one.”

“I don’t know why you insist on suffering as much as possible,” Veidt said, more exasperated than angry now. “But there’s no reason for the people you claim to protect to live in fear and misery with you. It didn’t have to be this way, but you’ve left me little choice.”

Rorschach didn’t wait to see what he would do. He only knew that it be too fast to stop, so he stabbed upwards, driving Blake’s syringe through the pocket of his coat and into Veidt’s thigh. He mashed the plunger as hard as he could, knowing Veidt would react before he could get the whole dose in him. He heard the pained cry of surprise and felt an impact that sent him flying away from Veidt. It didn’t hurt anymore, but he could hear the sound his shoulders made as they skidded across the pavement and the thud as he fell off the platform and under the overhang.

“What have you done?” Veidt shrieked from out of sight, all of his famous composure gone. “WHAT HAVE YOU DONE??” What was in the syringe anyway? Rorschach couldn’t be too worried. He remembered the mess left of the social worker and wondered when the next train was due. He would have to be up by then, but he wasn’t able to move at the moment. Somewhere in the background, Veidt had finally gone quiet. The lights were dimming and that was fine. It would make it easier to see the train when it came he told himself and passed out immediately after.


	22. Chapter 22

A bright light woke him up and he jerked. Train. He had to get back up on the platform with out touching the electrified rail. He was stiff and sore and his arm would barely move. Still, had to get up. He forced himself to roll to the side to get his knees under him, and then hopefully his feet, but ended up colliding with the couch. 

What?

The light came from the window, a beam of sunshine so bright it almost looked solid. It was morning. He was in Dan’s living room, on the decade-old rug between the couch and the coffee table. His battered head reeled a little and he stopped trying to move to let himself think. His arm ached and wouldn’t bend, but his fingers could flex. The pain in his jaw would’ve been blinding if he hadn’t been unconscious for the worst of it. He carefully worked his mouth and while still painful, it didn’t feel broken. The palm of his good arm hurt too.

It took him a minute to remember cutting it and then he was distracted by the state of the scarf he had bandaged it with. It was gnawed on and frayed and slightly damp, as if it had been chewed on. Dan must’ve found him and brought him back. He must’ve changed back and headed home and found Rorschach on the way. That made sense didn’t it? 

But why was he on the floor and not the couch or guest room? Why was his coat so clawed and shredded? Unless Dan hadn’t changed back first. Rorschach didn’t remember the last part of his fight with Veidt very well, but he did recall screaming. Maybe the noise had brought Dan back to investigate. What else had he done? Rorschach checked himself for injuries and bloodstains under his torn clothes, but didn’t find anything. He managed to spot the tip of the syringe sticking through his pocket before he jabbed himself on it.

He pulled off the trench coat, noting the punctures in his lapels and the clawmarks on the shoulders and chest of it. The werewolf had found him and pawed him over, maybe gnawed on what it could get of his throat without biting down and dragged him home. He lay back down, letting his head rest while he forced it to process what happened to him.

The third night of the full moon was on the way, when the moon began to wane. The same night a month ago that the boy had died and even in the frenzy of killing and devouring a rival, Dan hadn’t hurt him. Where was he? Still asleep maybe? He took a deep breath, swallowed until his throat stopped scratching, and called Daniel’s name. The first try was just a croak, so he pulled the mask to his nose and tried again. Still no answer came and after a bit, he dozed off or lost consciousness again until the sound of keys in the door alerted him. He hoped it was Dan. Out of sight behind the couch, he had to squirm over to peer around the dust ruffle for a view of the door. 

It was Hollis. He called for Dan too and then shrugged at the man behind him when no answer came. 

“Worth a try,” he said. “Come on in.” Rorschach couldn’t believe it. Who would Mason bring here? Who could he possibly trust enough to endanger Dan’s privacy this way?? The stranger was wearing a fisherman’s overcoat with a hood. The brim of a hat poked out of it, shadowing the face even more. He wasn’t as tall as Mason and seemed thin, as if after a long sickness. Rorschach wondered if he was strong enough to confront them and then he heard the stranger’s harsh breathing through his nose. He inhaled deeply, swaying while Mason watched. 

“Anything?” Mason asked. He sounded calm and detached, but there was a worry line carved deep between his eyebrows. 

“If he isn’t,” the man said, voice faint and a little singsong. “One has been here. A lot.” Mason processed that for a moment, then slumped. He covered his face with a hand.

“Jesus,” he whispered. 

“It’s not such a bad life,” the stranger crooned. “Especially if you aren’t alone.” He turned to stare at Rorschach in his hiding place. Mason followed the gaze and then jumped to get between them.

“Rorschach,” he said. “You’re hurt. What happened?”

“Veidt happened,” he snapped with as much strength as he could manage. He hadn’t given any thought to his appearance, but the lower half of his face must’ve looked bad to get that reaction from a former cop. He gestured at the stranger with his scarf-bound hand. “How could you??”

“You think I’m such an old has-been that I can forget what it’s like when there’s a werewolf loose in the city?” Mason barked back, shocking Rorschach into silence. “As soon as the first attacks made the news, I knew. People missing, body parts found, nothing new around here, except when it falls into a certain pattern. It’s happened before. It took the whole team to bring it down.” He nodded at the other man, who pulled the hood back. “When we were a team, that is.”

Mothman had never been the most photographed of the Minutemen, and time had not been gentle with him. It hadn’t changed his jaw structure or the set of his eyes though. Even if Rorschach hadn’t trained himself to remember things like that, it didn’t hurt when the man offered him a hand and introduced himself as Byron Lewis. He smiled faintly, almost dreamily, just enough to show how much sturdier his teeth were than the rest of him.

“You were bitten,” Rorschach said. Lewis nodded, still smiling. 

“It wasn’t so bad,” he said again. “The worst part is the hunger and I knew how to fix that.” He half-lifted a flask from his pocket, then dropped it back. “You won’t find many hardcore drunks with an appetite. It's a temporary fix and it takes more than ever, but....” His smile faded. “The medication they put me on when they thought I had nervous breakdown didn‘t even put a dent in it. It shut me down upstairs, but the change didn‘t need that part anyway.”

Mason had disappeared while Lewis talked and reappeared with a bag of frozen corn. He knelt and pressed it to Rorschach’s face without preamble, ignoring the hiss. 

“So,” he said. “You know. I know. We all know. So cut the crap. Where’s Danny really?” Rorschach shuddered against the ice, feeling the throb in his split lip stab like glass into the deeper pain of his jaw. 

“He ran,” Rorschach whispered. “Followed. Veidt intercepted. Lost the trail in the fight. Could be anywhere. Hoped he would come home when the sun rose. Still no sign.” 

“Where did you last see him?” Lewis asked mildly, eyes flickering again. Rorschach hesitated, but told him. “I’ll go have a look. Smelling me may bring him out.” 

“Can you find it?” Mason asked. “Been awhile since you’ve been here.”

“You can show me,” Lewis said. “Run get him some clothes just in case he’s hiding out somewhere because he’s naked. That happened to me a few times.” Mason nodded and headed upstairs. Lewis crouched down to pin Rorschach with a stare too fierce for his lined face. 

“I didn’t go crazy,” he said. “I lost Bill. A werewolf is only cursed if he’s alone.” Rorschach swallowed, holding the freezer bag to his mouth so he wouldn’t have to speak. Lewis stood back up. “You’re clearly his. You reek of him,” he said. The corner of his twitched in more knowing smile that made Rorschach bristle. “He’ll come back for you. Best if I’m not here then.”

Mason came back with a sweater and some slacks over his arm. 

“We’ll be back before dark,” he said. “If we don’t find him, he may come back on his own.“ Rorschach must’ve nodded, because they left without any more conversation. His head spun a little and he slumped back against the wall. 

 


	23. Chapter 23

Rorschach woke up and had no idea how much time had passed. His head still throbbed, or maybe that was just his ear. How had he gotten here? Where was Dan? He recognized where he was, but his memory was fuzzy. He took careful stock of himself, trying to decide how badly he really was hurt. His head was pounding and his jaw hurt. His ribs ached too. His hand stung. He was pretty sure that the sensation in his stomach was more hunger than nausea, but it was close. His clothes were a mess and he was clutching a thawed bag of corn. 

All right. Find a mirror. Try to get presentable again. His best bet for both was the bathroom, and that was just a small flight of stairs away. With some help from the railing, he heaved himself up and started carefully climbing. 

His first glimpse of himself told him why Mason had been startled. He looked ghoulish with the mask up to his nose. Dried blood from his nose and his split lip streaked his face and chin and one whole side of his face was black with bruises. Veidt had really done a number on him. He checked his pupils, made sure his teeth were all still in their sockets. He probably had a concussion, and combined with lack of sleep that was why he had been out so long and why he felt so groggy now. That was normal. He might have a ruptured ear drum too, but that had always healed by itself before. Nothing hospital worthy. He was fine. He had been hurt, obviously, but he would be fine. 

He took a deep breath and started washing out his mask. Once it was clean, he tried to get the blood off his skin. It hurt, but at least he was in better shape than his clothes. He pulled off the suit coat. Dan owed him a new trench, that was plain, but the suit could be repaired without too much trouble. He didn’t hear the door downstairs open which was why Mason’s voice startled him so badly, he had to press his forehead to the mirror for a moment to compose himself. He pulled the mask on and limped to the stairs. Mason looked up at him from the bottom.

“Any sign?” he asked and Rorschach’s heart sank. He shook his head and saw Mason’s expression match his. “All right. Come help me restrain Byron and we’ll figure out what to do.”

Byron had a small Airstream attached to the back of Mason’s car, backed into the alley nearest the brownstone. Mason opened the door and Rorschach hurried in to get out of sight. Inside was an elaborate system of restraints and what looked a lot like a full body muzzle. Byron was there, puttering. He had stripped down to his underwear and blinked at them. Rorschach was embarrassed, but Byron just shook his head and pulled them off. 

“The whole point of this is that I can get into it without help,” he said, stepping into the rig like it was a snowsuit. He pushed his hands into the arm parts and let it close around him. While he buckled and fastened, Rorschach looked around. There were claw marks on the floor and far wall, but the rig seemed solid.

“It will really hold you?” he asked, looking at the bolts in the ceiling. 

“Has so far. It’s a mix of natural and synthetic rubber cables. The military used it in parachutes. It stretches far beyond original size and then snaps back, good as new,“ Byron said. Hollis made an impressed sound and Byron scoffed. “I made functional wings after all. This is just a straitjacket.”

“If you can’t get out…” Rorschach was thinking out loud. “What if… if Dan finds you? You’re restrained and he isn’t. Will- would he…?” Byron chuckled and leaned, his weight making several cables pull tight and then catch on a series of steel rings to stay that way.

“I won’t be here. Hollis has kindly agreed to drive me somewhere more out of the way. And if I’m still tracked down, the camper is reinforced. And if that doesn’t work, the strongest, thickest restraints are around my vitals. He’ll have to tear through those to kill me, and if those are torn through, I won’t be restrained any more!” He grinned and then seemed to realize that it wasn’t him Rorschach was worried about. 

“That shouldn’t happen though,” he said. “I haven’t lingered inside or near you, so my scent should be too faint to worry him for long. And he’ll be more interested in finding you.”

“Where are you going to go?” Mason asked. Rorschach’s posture must’ve expressed confusion, because Mason nodded toward the house. “Are you just going to lock yourself in or-?”

“No,” he said. It was Mason’s turn to look puzzled.

“He’ll be fine,” Byron said. “Especially tonight. I’m usually in a sweat by now and look. Serene as a lily. It’ll be all right,” he said again to Mason, who still looked concerned. “I’m ready. Let’s go.” Mason shooed Rorschach back out and locked the door. 

“We’ll be back in the morning,” he said. He was clearly unhappy about all this and looked grim in the rearview mirror as he pulled out. They hadn’t mentioned what would happen if Dan didn’t show, Rorschach thought as they drove away. If he was killed or captured somewhere. If Rorschach had been up to it, he would’ve gone to investigate the status of Veidt and the Comedian. How long would a torn out eye keep the Comedian out of commission? Would he be back with silver to finish things? Had he already? 

Full of such thoughts, Rorschach went back inside and remembered to lock the front door before he went to finish what he had started. Another painful trip up the stairs to the bathroom and he pulled off the suit, sucking in a breath at the bruise across his ribs. The noise of the shower seemed deafening with the pain in his head and the lights were blaring so he turned them off. There was enough light from the hallway for him to see and it was gentler on his eyes. 

The water was too hot, scorching on his injured face so he turned it down to cool and bowed his head under the spray. Eventually he sank down to sit under it. It was colder down there, so he turned the hot water on a little higher. That felt better and he closed his eyes. The water trickling down his back was soothing, but he didn’t lean back until rough finger tips started tracing the droplets. Teeth grazed the back of his neck and his head spun. The bottom of the tub dropped out from under him and he would’ve fallen if the teeth hadn’t caught him. 

They sank in deep, making the water run red down his arms. He tried to say something and only heard a weak, shuddering sound that was drowned out by a rumbling growl. It made everything quiver and he could feel the vibration melt his bones. The teeth pulled free with a wet sound and Rorschach slumped forward. His body continued the motion as if it was natural, his weight sliding down to his elbows and his back end rising up. 

Blood dripped in symmetrical blots from both his shoulders and he watched them morph and dilute as he waited. The moment stretched out and he couldn’t feel anything. He arched a little farther, wondering if he would have to ask for it, beg to be taken, offer himself up even more. The thought didn’t bother him very much. He let his head loll forward and it bounced against the tile harder than he expected, waking him up. 

He was still sitting under the shower spray, painfully hard despite how cold it was now. He felt a draft and realized that the bathroom door had opened, but the amount of light coming in hadn’t changed. Something big enough was blocking it. he must’ve been out for awhile because the water wasn‘t warm anymore. The noise of the water seemed louder than ever, so he reached to turn it off. Something moved on the other side of the shower curtain when he did and in the ringing silence, he heard a huff of breath. The shower curtain moved and Rorschach froze. Something almost hand-shaped slid in and slapped down in the water still in the bottom, steadying itself. There was thick brown fur and long, sharp claws. 

The curtain bowed in and Rorschach scooted back in the tub to get away from it. The curtain slid back over the long muzzle and bright yellow eyes. Another front limb came in and the werewolf stopped half in and half out of the tub. That’s all that would fit comfortably. 

Rorschach couldn’t help but shake. His breath was fast and jerky, while the creature itself was breathing in soft whuffs. It leaned in close enough that he could feel its how much warmer its breath was than the water had been. It rumbled faintly and its tongue flicked out like a lash of heat across his mouth.

He had backed into the corner of the tub, and turned his head against the tiles to keep the open wounds away. That movement also exposed his throat and the teeth closed around it. They pinched hard enough to leave marks, but then relaxed and the tongue lathed across the sore spots again. 

“Daniel,” he said and it snarled at him. He tried to look at the fangs, but another blast of hot breath to his face made him flinch. It only lasted a moment and he peeked again. The teeth were covered now and it was looking at him, eyes unfathomable. Rorschach’s head was hurting enough that he was probably awake this time. He found it didn’t really matter if he was. He leaned forward, baring his throat again, and touching his good jaw against Dan’s. The fur along the mouth was soft and fine over the fangs and it was Dan that pulled away this time. 

He stared hard, eyes burning, but began backing out of the tub. From there he went to the door and Rorschach, whether he really was still dreaming or concussed but awake, thought nothing of lurching up to follow.


	24. Chapter 24

There was no sign of Dan when he got to the door. Rorschach looked both ways in the dark hallway until he heard the thump of paws on the floor and turned toward the bedroom. Being naked and wet made the air that much colder. Dan’s room was dark, but he could see the large outline of an animal moving, pacing the corners, maybe Dan processing his own human scent. Rorschach walked in and went to the edge of the bed. He looked at it, aware of the movement circling around behind him. 

The pain in his head didn’t even want to imagine the way the bedsprings would squeal if Dan followed him on to it. There was a quilted duvet on the bed so he held the edge and pulled it into the floor. He sank down with it. It felt good to lay down and not hold his head up anymore. The floor felt better. He was aware of Dan moving closer, but closed his eyes. He felt the brush of coarse hair, whiskers maybe, against his chin and another puff of breath against his mouth. When the tongue slid over his bottom lip, his mouth opened. There was a second’s hesitation then it slid in to carefully lap at his. It was thinner than his own tongue, longer, more agile and about 50° degrees warmer. It curled around his and brushed over his palate. It didn’t feel as much like a kiss as it did just being tasted, but it got a sound out of Dan that he hadn’t heard yet. 

He opened his eyes when Dan pulled back. He had moved to crouch over Rorschach’s body, the curve of his thumb claws close enough to brush Rorschach’s ear and opposite shoulder. Rorschach wasn’t sure where his hind claws were, but he could feel what he thought was the brush of a tail across his knees. The air trapped between them was quickly heated to Dan’s burning temperature and lay over Rorschach like a blanket. He felt a nibble on his eyebrow and another lick against his eyelid. He turned away from it like he had in the tub, closing his eyes and baring his throat. 

The teeth went there next, pinching and nipping enough to make him gasp. Dan’s rumble was a soft, pleased purr now. The claws by Rorschach’s head slid to the other side of his neck, but didn’t dig in. He felt the rough pads at odds with the soft slickness of the tongue and it made him think of black and white swirling together without blending. His mind reeled and he clutched at the body over him to steady himself without realizing what he was doing until his fingers sank into the fur. His hands were in the ruff along Dan’s jaw and if he was human it wouldn’t be a strange gesture at all, but Rorschach hadn’t really touched a transformed Dan like this before and wondered if it was allowed. The yellow eyes did flare bright, but then Dan leaned in. The fangs plucked gently at his throat again and then scraped lower.

Rorschach quivered, more unnerved by his own actions than Dan’s. The paw-padded fingers slid like points of sandpaper over his chest followed by the faint prick of the claws. One caught his nipple painfully enough to make him grunt and the tongue followed immediately to soothe it. Rorschach could feel Dan’s jaw move under the fur, felt his own fingers combing through it as Dan’s head moved lower. He felt the hot pit behind the ears as Dan scooted farther down, then the notch where the bullet had nicked him the night of his first change. 

The heat and caress of the tongue wasn’t unexpected anymore. Rorschach was able to savor the exploration of his ribcage and stomach muscles without bracing for pain. He still remembered the dream with the guts and the heat, but it felt too long ago to matter. Whatever happened to him wasn’t going to be stopped at this point. As haywire as his senses were going, he had almost forgotten his aroused state until a scalding lick across the head made him gasp. Dan didn’t change his pace. Another lick from base to tip broke down whatever was left and when the third dipped to curl under his balls, Rorschach couldn‘t even think of a reason to resist. His fingers clenched in the duvet, his knees splayed wide, and his back arched as much as it was able against the next thrust. He was vaguely aware of what he looked like with his eyes closed and his mouth hanging open and spread out as shamelessly as a dog that wanted a belly rub.

There was another new sound from Dan, a low plaintive whine that resonated through Rorschach into the floor. He pushed up against it blindly and Dan pushed back. His body lowered and nudged and Rorschach had a dizzy moment of wonder that any part of a biting, clawing monster could be so soft when they pressed together. Dan made the sound again and Rorschach felt Dan’s body realigning to let them rub against each other. Dan’s claws sank into the floor to anchor himself and he ground them together. It was too silky and slick to have much friction at first, but the sensation went to the marrow. 

Rorschach moaned and Dan’s head butted against his. Dan rubbed their jaws and brows together, still whimpering even though his teeth kept snapping together in desperate little clicks. He nudged farther forward onto Rorschach’s stomach and then rolled back. Another brush of fur, not as soft as the belly coat, and the press of heated skin against him, also not as smooth as the underside. Dan’s claws creaked in the floor and the sound he made was barely audible, but Rorschach could feel the tremor through his body. He leaned back harder and Rorschach felt the tail swish as it lifted and the quiver of an opening pressed more insistently against him before he realized what was happening. 

Rorschach froze. Dan’s head swiveled to stare him in the eye. There was no uncertainty in the yellow gaze. Dan had no doubts as to what he wanted, not a single care as to why, and absolute unshakeable confidence about who. There did not exist a world to him where his mate didn’t want or would refuse him anything. He pushed back again, eyes narrowing to pleasured slits. His tongue flicked against Rorschach’s gaping mouth as he found an angle that lined them up and sank back. 

“We can’t,” Rorschach gasped, the stretch and heat making his whole body clench. “Daniel…!” Dan just rumbled and arched. He was too heavy for Rorschach to just roll over under him and bucking up to get some room between them would only make it worse. Another nudge, another half inch and Rorschach thrashed to pull back.

“We can’t!” he sobbed and forced his hands in between them, blocking them both. Dan made a high, distressed sound and ground back down. Rorschach cupped him and tried to explain, knowing he wouldn’t understand the words any more than he would the denial. 

“You won’t remember!” Rorschach whimpered, teeth gritting as Dan thrust into his hands again. “You won’t- I can’t-! “ Dan drowned him out with a yowl of need and his teeth snapped together with a crack. He shoved his clenched fangs against Rorschach’s chest. Rorschach’s hands tightened and Dan shuddered, then leaned into them. Rorschach wasn’t sure exactly what he should do, but a slow rhythm of stroking and squeezing got Dan’s claws digging into the floor again. His whine evolved back into a rumble and he started to move again. Rorschach let him revel in it, still miserably hard against his own knuckles. Finally, Dan shook himself and then doubled over to lick himself, tongue frantic over Rorschach’s hands as well. 

His release came with a howl and a hot gush. Rorschach rode it out, shaking and fighting back a snarl of his own. It made pain shoot through his jaw and then he was crushed breathless when Dan collapsed on him. It was only for a moment because then Dan was up and moving again, circling and licking him, nudging him until he rolled to his side. He felt a wave of cooler air and then the tremor of the floor as Dan bounded away. He curled around an armful of duvet and began the process of pulling himself together.


	25. Chapter 25

There was so much of this that didn’t make any sense at all, but Rorschach was trying. 

He tried not to dwell on the details because he wasn’t sure he wouldn’t get hysterical. What had Dan really wanted? Well, that had been obvious, but what did that mean? He had blamed the moon for Dan’s loss of inhibition where he himself was concerned. That had still been human Dan, pulled by human desires. Rorschach wasn’t ready to examine his own response to that yet. He had assumed that the monster only wanted him because the human did. Why would a dominant, powerful creature, clearly the alpha, submit to a definitely weaker one? Why would it have wanted him to- He felt his mind try to skitter away from that again and forced it still. 

He hadn’t been afraid when Dan had wanted him to be. Worried, agitated, human Dan hadn’t frightened him. On the other hand, he still remembered the primal, instinctive terror of being chased, snarled at, of Dan’s jaws straining at him from the broken window and the terrifying knowledge of how ineffectual his own teeth and nails were, how thin and unprotected his skin was. 

Dan would’ve killed him and he knew that, had accepted it as a possible and maybe likely consequence of this situation. The fact that there had been just as many instances when it should’ve happened but didn’t had been proof that this was not normal. It would’ve made more sense if the certainty of Dan tearing him to shreds had never wavered. 

It was one thing to let it touch him. There was little he could do to stop it when it had him. If it had chosen to nip and lick instead of tear and maul, he had no way of stopping that either. There was no way to be sure what it wanted or what it would do. The unhinging part was that he had touched back. 

He remembered. The fur on the muzzle was short and soft, growing longer and thicker out over the jaws. Underneath, it had been thinner and finer, flat against the skin and he knew that because he had reached out and ran his bare hands over the creature that he had been sure would tear him to shreds the day before. 

How had he done that? Had he misjudged Dan’s intentions? All those times he had fled for his mortal life, would Dan really have killed him? Of course he would have. He was a monster, driven by inhuman hungers, in varying, bewildering degrees. There was some anomaly that triggered the sexual lust over the bloodlust and it was much worse in him than it was in Dan. He had followed willingly into the dark and laid down for a creature to have its way with. Would he have resisted if it had rolled him over and taken him like before? Honestly? No. 

He had expected that, in some perverse way had wanted it. Not from a human he knew and trusted, but from an animal. Even his mother had never done that. Even she had never gone that far. What was wrong with him? What had happened that this was even possible? What had been done to him to bring him this low? He covered his face with his hands and then snatched them away when he remembered where they had been. 

There was another thump on the floor and then the darkness was full of motion. Dan was back, circling and bounding over to him. He was breathing noisily around something in his mouth and he brought it close enough to nudge at Rorschach’s face. It was wet and hairy and shapeless, but the smell was familiar. 

It smelled like wet earth, wet hair, wet dog, exposed bone, and blood gone cold, and it brought back that night in the dark. Nothing triggered old memories like old smells and Rorschach’s stomach lurched. There was nothing in it, but he retched so violently that even Dan seemed startled. 

Rorschach’s head spun again. He was thrashing away from the tangle of blanket, and he could hear himself choking out a string of ‘stop stop stop’. His back hit the wall and he doubled over to gag a little more. He had to make himself breathe and then went scrabbling for the lamp. It was stupid and he knew it. A child clawing to turn the light on wanted to be sure nothing was there. He already knew that he didn’t want to see what was there. He grabbed the cord and yanked, pulling the lamp off the end table into his lap.

Dan was approaching him again, slowly as a nightmare. Rorschach fumbled to turn the lamp on, as if the light would keep the monster back. It came on in a blaze of brightness and Dan’s eyes went even more yellow as his pupils contracted. He snarled a little, ears laying back. Rorschach sat frozen staring at him. He was huge in the small room, a shaggy, organic shape surrounded by straight lines. 

It didn’t fit, it clashed with reality, and Rorschach heard himself beg it to stop again. If it would just stop so that his head could settle down too, but there was a splash of blood across Dan’s nose and he remembered the stain spreading across his coat. He closed his eyes and the glare of the lamp through his lids wasn’t that different from the fire through the mask. 

His voice rose but he couldn’t hear what he was saying anymore. Then his leg was grabbed and he was yanked away from the lamp. It tipped and wobbled. Dan’s weight pinned Rorschach to the floor again. The jaws closed on his face and at last he got to scream. Claws dug in and the jaws tightened. There. Finally. This made sense. The lamp fell and the lightbulb shattered and everything went dark.


	26. Chapter 26

He was too cold to be dead. And something stank entirely too badly. 

His old pains were still there, but the back of his head and his lower abdomen were stinging worse now. He had cracked his head on the stairs and the claws had scored his belly. The memory was dim and hazy, but it was there. Definitely still alive then. Eventually, he would have to open his eyes, but not yet. He heard the hiss of water falling and splashing, but he seemed to be dry. It wasn’t until shaking hands tilted his head to see the bruises and heard a shuddering breath that he blinked up at Dan’s face. 

Dan was bright red and shiny with sweat and was shivering with the usual exhaustion of changing back. The blood across his face was gone, maybe carried away wherever the fur went when it vanished. They were in the Nest. How long would they be able to use this place? It wasn’t safe anymore. 

“I’m fine,” he said, before Dan could ask him anything. Dan’s whole being seemed to sag with relief, but Rorschach could still feel thumbs smoothing his face tight to look for bite marks. He flinched away and pulled himself up with a grunt. The claw marks stung, and the bruise on his ribs had gone purple. Dan helped him up. Rorschach felt hollow and fragile and emptied out. Dan turned him to check behind his head and he leaned back to stay upright. 

“Just a cut,” Dan said. 

“I know,” Rorschach said. Dan turned him again to look into his eyes. Rorschach leaned into his chest. After the floor, his body heat felt wonderful. Dan was quiet for a minute, just holding him. He started to speak twice and reconsidered. 

“You were there,” he said suddenly. He held Rorschach out to look at him again. “Oh my God, you stayed with me. You- are you all right?”

“You remember?” Rorschach asked. “…Didn’t think you would…”

“Remember what?” Dan’s face looked stricken. 

“You tell me.” 

“It’s in flashes,” Dan said, shaking his head. Some sweat splashed onto Rorschach. “More smells than visuals. You under me, reaching and… did you really do that? Put hands on me like that?” Rorschach nodded and Dan pulled him close to touch their foreheads together. “Are you crazy? Didn’t it even cross your mind what I might do?”

Rorschach barked out a breathless laugh. He leaned against Dan again.

“Saved me from Veidt yesterday,“ he said. “Last night you just walked up to me.”

Dan spent another long moment processing and then exhaled. 

“You will have to explain that,” he said. Rorschach was too tired and hungry to dodge.

“Came to me,” he said. “Expected worse, but you were, you were gentle.” Dan made a disbelieving sound. “Wanted me. I…” He trailed off, then rallied. “Was willing.” He didn’t know how Dan would take that. He had almost said ‘didn’t fight’ but that would make Dan assume the worst, and he did that enough as it was. Sure enough, he was starting to say something flustered so Rorschach cut him off. “Thought it would be like before, but you had other ideas.”

He waited for Dan to ask this time. Maybe he would guess right and Rorschach wouldn’t have to say it, but Dan only waited. When the silence grew long, he finally whispered. 

“What happened?”

“On my back. You on top. Your tongue and-” He faltered again. “Wanted me. Inside.” He expected shock or embarrassment or horror or disbelief, but Dan had gone blank. “Insistent.” 

“Please tell me I didn’t miss that,” Dan said. It was not the reaction Rorschach had braced for. 

“No,” he blurted. “No, I- I… didn’t.” 

“Didn’t want to?” 

“No. No! I did! I just-” He trailed off and then started again. “Have never-” he began, blushing. “With anyone. Not… inside. Didn’t know if you had ever been like that…“ Dan was looking incredulous now and Rorschach got more nervous. “Didn’t seem right. You wouldn’t even remember what we- what I had done and that, that didn’t-“ Dan was holding up a hand for him to stop and he was glad to. 

“You’re telling me,” Dan began. “That I was all over you and you held back because you didn’t want either of our first times to be lost because I wouldn’t remember what had happened and you didn’t want to take advantage of my horny, feral state?” Rorschach shifted, nodded, and became very interested in the floor.

“Wow. Well… speaking of not remembering first times, did the night in the subway somehow escape you?”

“Don’t mock,” Rorschach said quietly, but getting some of his intensity back. “Wasn’t fair to either of us.” He was shaking, maybe just because he was naked in a cold basement, maybe not. Dan was quick to wrap arms around him before he could turn away.

“You’re right, you’re right,” he said. “I don’t mean to make fun, I just can’t believe it.” He kissed the bruised temple nearest to him. “You are the only person in the world who could manage to be both a gentleman and a romantic while being humped by a monster in heat.” 

“It wasn’t like that,” Rorschach protested and Dan kissed him again. . 

“See? That’s what I mean.”

 

They made their way to the shower and this time, Rorschach followed Dan into the tub without any arguments. When he winced under the barrage of hot water, Dan traded places to shield him from the worst of it. They were both exhausted, leaning on each other and the tiles. Dan’s stomach growled and reminded Rorschach of how long it had been since either of them had eaten. 

Who knew what Dan had found to eat once he had been loose? Rorschach remembered the mouthful Dan had tried to feed him and had to swallow hard. Dan was growing more and more alert with hunger and Rorschach was still fading. It took Dan awhile to notice. 

“Hey,” he said cupping Rorschach’s face. “How are you doing?” Rorschach winced. He needed a shave, but if Dan’s hands grated that painfully against his bruised jaw there was no way he could scrape a razor across it. When he didn’t answer right away, Dan leaned in to nuzzle him. 

“My tongue, huh?” he asked and Rorschach was too tired to be embarrassed. He just nodded, which seemed to intrigue Dan more. “Will you tell me?”

“Later,” Rorschach said. “Hollis will be back soon.” Dan raised an eyebrow. Rorschach wondered how he would take the news. “He knows.”

The change in demeanor was instant. Dan wasn’t threatening him, but the level of intensity had gone off the chart with just two words. Rorschach knew he would have to explain that. 

“The night you were shot,” he began. “Took Comedian to the roof of the Veidt building to leave him there. Veidt was waiting. Expecting him. And you.” Dan’s eyes flared gold and Rorschach hoped that it was the floor creaking as he took a stop closer and not a bone shifting. “Got away, but wasn’t sure how far I’d get. Called Silk Spectre to warn her of treachery. Only told her that you had been shot, that Comedian had done it, and Veidt was behind it.”

He shivered a little and then went on. 

“Got back. You were gone. Got a message from the sanitarium receptionist. Confirmed our suspicions, then stepped in front of a train. Didn’t get there in time. Told the coroner to have her cremated. By the time I got back, Mason was here. Silk Spectre had called him, so he knew you had been attacked. Wanted answers.”

“And you told him….?” Dan’s voice trailed off into a growl. 

“What I told her!” Rorschach snapped, indignant. “He knew, Daniel. Saw the signs in the disappearances. Knew what it was, but not who. Dealt with sort of thing before.”

“No way,” Dan said at once. “How could-”

“Better at keeping secrets than writing career implied,” Rorschach said. “He knew. And went to get his own information.” Dan waited. “Mothman.”

“The Mothman? Byron Lewis?”

“You’ll see.” Rorschach nodded at the door. “Said they’d be back in the morning.”

Dan processed that. Rorschach wondered what was turning in his head. Was he nervous about facing his mentor as a monster? Seemed unlikely. Unless Rorschach had been wrong to assume that Mason could be trusted. Did Dan know something he didn’t? Something that he hadn’t thought of; would Mason feel the need to restrain or remove Dan for the greater good? Probably not. The fact that he was still on good terms with Lewis likely meant that he had a fairly high monster tolerance. Still it could be awkward. Dan finally gave himself a shake.

“I need food,” he grumbled and turned the water off. “So do you.” Rorschach nodded vaguely, mind still busy with his own wonderings. A towel tossed over his head made him grunt, but got him moving again.


	27. Chapter 27

When they went to get dressed, Dan stopped in his bedroom doorway. Inside was the torn duvet, some bloody spatters, and the lamp knocked into the floor. Rorschach stood behind him and let him look it over. When it started to feel like it might take awhile, he leaned his head against Dan’s back. The warmth and the clean smell helped his headache. He could’ve dozed off right there if Dan hadn’t suddenly and quietly asked where the blood had come from. 

Rorschach could’ve told him, but that would’ve put more words to nightmare flicker of images in his head and he was too tired. Besides that, it was close to time for Mason and Lewis to come back and he couldn’t risk them finding him in pieces. 

“Pieces,” he said aloud. He stepped around Dan and gestured vaguely at the duvet, then went to get the spare clothes Dan had bought him. They were soft and easy to get on, only one button and he wouldn’t have to think. Dan picked up the duvet and then crouched down for a better look at something on the floor.

“Looks like part of a dog?” he asked. Unsure? Must not’ve been a collar in his leavings then. 

“Nrrh,” Rorschach said, keeping his mind on getting the t-shirt over his head. He heard Dan toss the chunk onto the duvet and use a corner to scrub at the stain. Waste of time, probably. Dan must’ve come to the same decision because he scooped up the whole blanket and carried it away, probably to the trash. When he got back, Rorschach was dressed and was struggling with his mask.

“Still?” Dan asked. Rorschach grunted again.

“Haven‘t earned it,” he said. Dan didn’t argue or ask what that meant, just stepped over to help him ease the mask past the cut on his head. Rorschach left it rolled up to his nose and surprised Dan when he went up on his toes to kiss him. Then, he went back out the door without speaking, down the stairs, and was sitting at the kitchen table when Dan got dressed and followed him down. He almost expected Dan to make some comment about how out of it he was and had braced himself to not say anything rude. 

Dan started the coffee pot without saying anything though, and then went rummaging in the fridge. There wasn’t much. He hadn’t been home to shop and they had eaten every bite of take out. Dan was saved from have to suggest he thaw out the frozen fish sticks that had been in the back of his freezer since he’d moved in by a knock on the door. He started to go, but Rorschach stopped him, reminding him that he was supposed to be shot. Before they settled that, the door was unlocked and Hollis called in. 

Rorschach went to check to be sure he was alone and found him trying to maneuver a bag of food and the door keys, and a completely inebriated Lewis over the threshold. The smell of bourbon was overpowering. Hollis shoved the bag of food into Rorschach’s hands, dropped the keys on the end table and used both arms to wrestle Lewis into the room. Lewis staggered to his knees and started giggling and Mason gave up with a growl. He shut the door, locked it, and put the keys back in his pocket.

“Dan?” he asked then. Rorschach didn’t have to answer because the smell of Lewis had brought Dan out of the kitchen. Mason just looked relieved. 

“Thank God,” he said and then quickly. “He’s harmless, I promise.” He nodded at Lewis who was now on his back, blinking up at Dan. They locked eyes and it seemed to sober him up quickly. “He starts drinking as soon as he has hands. He says it helps.” Dan nodded, but he didn’t look convinced. Hollis walked up to him. 

“I saw the armor,” he said. “You really are all right?” 

“Yeah,” Dan finally spoke up. “I’m fine.” He tugged the collar of his loose shirt down to show faint marks. Hollis whistled, then shook his head. He reached to take the bag back from Rorschach.

“Here, I picked up some food,” he said. “And I’ve got some news.”

They all shuffled to the kitchen table, even Lewis. 

“I don’t have news,” Lewis mumbled. “How did you get news?”

“I listened to the radio all night,” Hollis said, dumping out the bag on the table. Foil-wrapped lumps spilled out and the smell of buttery scrambled eggs made Lewis shudder. “Your former teammate, Adrian Veidt was found in a sorry shape early this morning and taken to a hospital.”

“How sorry?” Dan growled. He shoved one of the breakfasts to Rorschach and started to eat his own. 

“They didn’t know who he was,” Hollis said, passing another to Lewis who was now green. “Just try. Nibble. One of the nurses was a fan, because once they got him undressed and clean, she recognized him. They checked and found that Veidt wasn’t home or at work or answering any calls, and got somebody to come ID him. The phrase ‘altered state’ was used pretty often. I called to see if there was a report filed. He was found passed out in a subway tunnel and there was speculation that someone had taken advantage of that altered state. The cops that were called thought he was a junkie, so he must’ve looked pretty bad.”

“What did you do to him?” Dan asked Rorschach, who had to think about it for a minute. Hollis raised his eyebrows too. Lewis just took a swig from his flask.

“Stabbed him with the Comedian’s syringe,” Rorschach said. After the first few bites, he had scarfed his helping down. The food was radiating from his stomach, chasing off some of the stupor. “Whatever it did to him, it was intended for you.”

“Do you still have it?” Hollis asked. He was very calm, but that steeliness was creeping back. “The syringe?”

“Should still be in my coat,” Rorschach said, and it was Dan who went to get it. He made a noise like a punch to the stomach when he saw how mauled the coat was, but found the syringe and brought it back. The tip was broken off the needle and there was still maybe a quarter inch of the mystery drug inside. Hollis took it and stood up. 

“I know who to ask about finding out what this is,” he said. “We kept her pretty busy when Moloch was in his prime. You all eat and talk and relax a little and I’ll be back later. Danny, don’t answer the phone and stay out of sight.” He left and Rorschach suddenly realized he was sitting between two werewolves the morning after. They were looking at each other, and Lewis wasn’t so wasted that he wasn’t wary under Dan’s blistering stare. 

“So,” Dan said. “How long?”

“Mnh?” Lewis said. 

“When were you bitten?”

“’39,” Lewis said at once. He seemed pleased to have been able to answer that one, but then wilted. ”God, I wish she was here. She would know what to tell you, she’d be more help than I am.” He hung his head. Rorschach and Dan traded looks. 

“Who?”

“Ursula,” Lewis pushed his half-opened meal over to Rorschach and set his chin on his folded arms. “She came here to get away from the Nazis, remember? Everybody assumed it was because she was Jewish, but the truth is always stranger. They wanted what she really was, wanted to make super-soldiers out of it.”

“You’re kidding,” Dan said. “Silhouette was a werewolf?” 

“Her family was wealthy. Over there, she had special chambers made and servants to make sure nothing went wrong. Here, she did her best on her own, but accidents happen. She got loose, and when the body count got high, we tracked her down. Luckily, it was the third night, so she didn’t kill any of us, but she was pissed off enough to bite me when I pulled a gun on her. She knew about guns.

“We got her contained and what a shock the next day when instead of this massive black monster, we had a gorgeous naked woman with my blood all over her face. She was sorry for biting me, and stayed to help. She joined the group and spent that first month training me so it wouldn’t be so bad when I did change. Bill helped too. He was already my best friend, and once I changed, more so.”

“Really.” Dan refocused. “Were you… before?”

“He kissed me the first time he got really drunk,” Lewis chuckled. “But no. Not until there was no stopping it. He tried. Threw himself in my path like a speed bump when all my brakes were off.” He smiled fondly, then grimaced and took another drag off the flask. 

“Hollis knew,” Rorschach said. “And Bill. Did the other Minutemen? Did the Comedian?”

“He was just a punk kid then,” Lewis sighed. “Nelly didn’t think he could keep it a secret. Sally knew something was up, but after she saw how spooked Hooded Justice was and how Ursula was so smug about it she didn't want to be involved. Urs thought that was funny too. They never did get along after that.”

“Has a knack for finding out things that he was never told,” Rorschach grumbled and Lewis shrugged. 

“He wasn’t in on it. That’s all I know.” 

“Ok,” Dan said, gears turning. “So you were able to keep on crime-fighting.”

“Of course.”

“Is, is it why you had to be locked up?” That got a bark of laughter. 

“Noooo,” Lewis drawled. “No. I was already on my way to a bad liver, so it wasn’t unheard of when I started drinking fulltime to fight the hunger. The communist thing was to make the werewolf thing ridiculous. Something sinister, but plausible, right? Then Bill died, and it didn’t matter who knew. I couldn’t, I… Went to pieces. I bit that one orderly who put me in the van, remember from the news footage? Killed him the next full moon. He tore through the whole hospital to get to me. Nobody believed the witnesses. They were crazy people after all. The story was that I had smashed through a window and cut myself to shreds and that accounted for all the blood. There wasn’t enough left of him to identify.” He locked eyes with Dan. “Anybody who tells you to turn yourself in doesn’t care what happens to the people around you. Remember that.“

 

Another long moment of silence fell over the table. Lewis took another long drink from the flask and Dan glanced around to be sure that all the food containers were empty. 

“So,” he said finally. “What should I be asking you?“ Lewis squinted as if he didn’t understand, then shrugged.

“It doesn’t wear off and it doesn’t get easier,” he said. “You get used to it. That’s all.“

“What do you do?”

“I liquidated what was left of the family fortune,” Lewis shook his flask, grinning like it was a joke. “Sold all the properties, everything. Set myself up in a houseboat. Take it out too far to swim back and let the moon do the rest. I did try to swim for it the first few times. Washed up naked the next morning. The locals know I’m a crazy old drunk, so they brought me a blanket and called the coast guard to get my boat back while I sat in Evelyn’s Diner and swore I’d pay her back for all the coffee. Eventually, I got it through my hairy head that I was stuck and it’s worked just fine ever since.”

Dan nodded, thinking. “What’s your boat’s name?” he asked, and Lewis smirked. 

“Will and Way” he said. “Because where there’s one there’s the other. When I first got it, I didn’t have either. I have a back up called Endymion. I’ll lend it to you if you ever come to visit.”

“Maybe,” Dan said, glancing at Rorschach. “Is… silver really something to worry about?”

“It killed Ursula,” Lewis sighed. “Or maybe her heart just broke. Either way, the coroner said her lover died before she did. The way their bodies were found made it look like Urs had tried to hold her and comfort her before she died too.”

“I don’t remember much about the Liquidator.”

“Nobody does. Even Silhouette barely mentioned him. He was nobody.”

“Could’ve been anybody then,” Rorschach said. He was still thinking of the Comedian, Dan realized. 

“I would’ve killed him myself if I could have,“ Lewis said. He was quiet for another minute then barged right back in to his first point. “She once told me that her noble ancestors would tax their people for silver, so the peasants wouldn’t have any to kill their family members with. Apparently, it’s hereditary.”

“Seriously? So if I have kids…?”

“I think there’s a reason we bond so closely with people we can’t reproduce with.” 

Rorschach didn’t want to be pulled into that discussion. He was beginning to lose focus anyway. He could’ve gone to the couch, but he didn’t want to leave them alone, so he folded his arms on the table and rested his head in the nest. Hopefully his mask would keep them from being able to tell he was dozing off. 

“What about the different nights? I do…different things…” Dan wasn’t sure how to explain. “Have you noticed a pattern?”

“First night is a gamble,” Lewis said. “I never know what I’ll do. Bill told me that some nights I would run away from noise and lights and some I would be drawn to them. Second night is worse. The hunger and the anger… Then I really am a monster. I never remember the second night. Third night is easier. Bill said I would be quieter, gentler. And I can sometimes remember bits and pieces. If you have to be out, the third night is your best bet.”

Dan said something about noticing that too, but Rorschach was slipping away. His head still hurt, but he was full and Dan’s leg was warm and solid against his under the table. He was safe for now. He could sleep for a few minutes. He heard Dan’s voice rumble a question about getting out of the hospital and the thinner, raspier voice of Lewis chuckling, but was asleep before he heard the answer.


	28. Chapter 28

He didn’t wake up until Dan’s hand on his back made him jump. He jerked up and saw that Byron was also snoring with his head on the table. Dan’s hand slid up to the back of his neck and kneaded it for a moment. Rorschach lolled back against it, letting his startled heartbeat settle down again. He felt better, but he had had just enough sleep to want more.

“Come on,” Dan whispered and they both got up. Rorschach let Dan steer him up the stairs back to the bedroom. It was clean now, and the bed was turned down. How long had he been asleep? Lewis must’ve passed out a little after he did for Dan to have left him at the table to do all this. He jumped again when he felt fingers under the edge of his mask, even though he knew it was Dan behind him. 

“See how that gash is,” Dan was still speaking too softly. Was he worried that Lewis would hear? The mask was lifted up over the back of his head and he felt thumbs gently parting his hair around the cut. It stung and prickled when he touched it, but not badly enough for Rorschach to even grunt. 

“Doesn’t look too bad,” Dan said. “Already sealed over.”

“It’s fine,” Rorschach said, also keeping his voice down. He pulled the mask the rest of the way off. He felt the ghost of Dan’s breath on his neck and then Dan stepped away to undress. He pulled his shirt over his head and Rorschach saw the shine of the already-scars on Dan’s chest. He wondered how long something like that would heal on a normal person who somehow didn’t die instantly. Months probably. Three, maybe four. Could they hide that long before Veidt or the Comedian showed up again? 

He realized he had to hurry to undress if he was going to get in bed before Dan. He almost left the shirt on. He hadn’t slept in a t-shirt since he was a child, and remembering that was enough to make him whip it off. He stepped out of his underwear and slid underneath the covers. The lights went out and he heard the door close and lock. The mattress dipped and Dan crawled in after him. 

He had already rolled over to face away from the door, so Dan curled around him from behind. His arm slid under to pillow Rorschach’s neck and tilt him back against his chest. He felt Dan’s nose nuzzle into his hair over his ear, where he had been hit first. It still ached. Warm breath drifted over his black and blue jaw and then fingers stroked lightly after. 

“You sure this wasn’t me?” Dan asked. “You said it was Veidt and that I didn’t hurt you, but I saw the room. Something went wrong if you went from spreading out on the floor for me to trying to fend me off with a lamp.”

“Wasn’t you,” Rorschach whispered. 

“You don’t seem quite right. I’ve seen you concussed and you were never like this.” Rorschach exhaled. If he had been standing or sitting, he might’ve been able to keep it all pooled back down in his gut. Gravity might’ve helped hold it all down. Stretched on his side like this though, head like a ragdoll’s against Dan’s arm, it trickled out in a thin whisper. 

“I was too late,” he finally said. “Kidnapping case. Six years old and already dead when I got there. Passed the dogs fighting over her bones and didn’t know it was her until I got inside. Killed them. Killed him. Haven’t been the same since. Know that.” 

Dan didn’t speak, but his breath shuddered and his arms tightened. 

“Didn’t. Couldn’t break then. The smell though. Dog and blood. Too tired to hold all the pieces in place.” Dan shivered again and if he was crying, Rorschach didn’t want to see it. He kept his eyes closed.

“Pieces,“ Dan echoed, “That’s what you meant. How-” His voice cracked a little, shame and awe in his voice. “How have you stood it? The teeth and fur, the blood and the, the rest? God, seeing the boy go the way he did. It’s no wonder you were- Jesus, it explains so much. How could you stand it?”

“Thought I was handling it well,” Rorschach said and Dan sobbed out a laugh against his neck.

“You’re a rock, you know that,” he said. “You’ve been my hero since this whole thing started and the fact that you’ve had all that to deal with already just makes you more amazing.”

“Nothing amazing about it,” Rorschach sighed. “Just have to.” He was quiet, then whispered. “Need you. Good to be needed back.”

Dan pulled him close, enveloping him in a wave of heat. He felt it spread over his back and down the back of his legs and the arms around him radiated too. Rorschach felt like a lizard on a rock, basking in warmth. 

“Taking it better than I expected,” he said, just to have something to say. 

“Hm?”

“Didn’t think you would understand. Thought you would run horrified to Hollis to tell him what a terrible thing your partner had done.” Rorschach hadn’t realized that had even occurred to him until he said it. It felt ridiculous now and the little snort from Dan confirmed that.

“What? Am I schoolgirl in these imaginings?” Dan pretended to be indignant. 

“No.” There was reluctant amusement, probably born from relief, in that one word. Dan let him enjoy it and then sighed.

“Honestly?” he said. “Before all this I might’ve been upset. But I’m the monster now. And don’t say I’m not. Byron said he had gentle nights too, but he’d always go back to mindless feeding.”

“What else did he say?” Rorschach asked. 

“Not much. It was like he wanted to, but some part of him knew better and was getting drunk as fast as possible to put a stop to it. “

“Bad idea,” Rorschach said with some of usual strictness. Then. “What happened after I-?” 

“He was telling me about trying to hide being a werewolf in a sanitarium. Said Hollis and Nelson took turns checking him out on full moons until Nelly died. By then the medication had taken its toll and the guilt over Nelson just kinda turned him in on himself.”

“Guilt?” Rorschach asked after a moment. 

“He thinks Nelson was coming to see him when he was killed. Said it was right after one of his bad spells so Nelly must’ve been rushing to see him. Didn’t have the heart to tell him that they had kinda written him off by then. Didn’t matter, he could barely hold his head up anyway. Passed out a little after you did.”

“Oh,” Rorschach cringed a little. Dan responded to that by running his hands from Rorschach’s chest to stomach. “Did- did he notice?”

“No. I only knew because you didn’t chime in at a few points I knew you’d have comment about.” Dan’s chin rubbed against his neck and his hands started kneading gently, so gently that it took Rorschach a moment to register it as a caress. It felt too good to really tickle and he lost track of whatever he had been about to ask after that. He had stopped mid-sentence and was trying to remember what the last word he had said was, but the massage moved over his hips and all he could manage was an “Oh.”

Dan’s answer was a thrum in his ear. Rorschach leaned back into it. The movement slid Dan’s mouth to his favorite spot on Rorschach’s neck and his hands even lower. It also made the arch into both contacts feel fluid and natural. The fingers moved in slow strokes that almost matched the motion of his tongue. Occasionally, he would squeeze or nip hard enough to get a gasp and then go back to slow and easy again. It would’ve been torture if it hadn’t been so mutual. Rorschach could feel against his thighs that Dan was as hard as he was and had to bow his back a little to line them up. He raised a leg to hook over Dan’s and get it out of the way. Dan groaned something against his neck and thrust against him four times before getting his control back.

“Were you like this last night?” he gasped. 

“Tried to be,” Rorschach whispered. “More interested in me doing it.” Dan sucked in a breath.

“Will you?” he asked. It was close to a whimper and Rorschach rolled over, putting them face to face. Dan grabbed his hips to bring them back against each other and mouthed over his cheek to his neck. “Please?”

Rorschach grimaced, getting back into the grinding rhythm as quickly as possible. The thought of driving into Dan’s heat was as terrifying as it was brain-melting. Just the mention of it made his hips buck, which made Dan’s grip tighten and his breath hiss.

“When you’re sure,” Rorschach panted. 

“I’m pretty sure…” 

“When the moon is smaller then.” It was getting hard to talk. His voice was straining along with his body. “When I’m sure you’re sure and nnhn! Both sure. It isn’t the moon.” Dan growled, but buried his frustration in a kiss that didn’t break until the spasms shook them both.


	29. Chapter 29

They lost most of the day in sleep, but even if the moon wasn’t full anymore, its rising spurred Dan awake. There was still some daylight left, enough for him to sit up and just look at Rorschach for awhile. Lit up in oranges and golds, his eyes were hot and hungry. They were both quiet, looking at each other until some clumsy noises downstairs said that Lewis was awake too. Dan made a thoughtful sound and then bent down for a kiss. 

His full moon swagger wasn’t all gone either. As soon as Rorschach responded at all, the kisses turned hungry and began moving down Rorschach’s body. Dan was all over him, devouring and sucking, muffling needy whines in his neck and belly. It came as a welcome shock, but for his part, Rorschach was too aware that there was someone else in the house. He hadn’t heard anything from downstairs now which could mean Lewis was there listening. Dan didn’t seem to have any such inhibitions and was louder than ever. Maybe he wanted Lewis to hear, just to be sure everybody knew who was whose. Rorschach let a moan out, just to test, and Dan all but glowed with satisfaction. All right. He wasn’t the only one with territory to claim. 

Rorschach hooked his legs around to pull him close and nipped back against his chest. Dan’s enthusiasm at that flattened them both into the mattress. Had it really only been three nights since the first time? It seemed like ages. The night the first full moon had risen, he had submitted to this and now, the night after the last one had set, he was desperate for it. They locked together, arms and mouths clamped wherever they could reach, grinding each other deeper into the springs.

Then Dan pulled away and left him wheezing. He returned quickly, fingers slippery. There was a gentle, circular rub that slicked and softened him, made him tremble and melt under it. Dan pulled away again and he must’ve been able to stammer out a why because Dan answered over the pounding in his ears. 

“Should’ve done this first time,” he breathed. “Wasn’t thinking. Couldn’t.”

“No complaints,” Rorschach moaned as the finger entered and curled. He knew what he was going to say next and could only halfway believe it. “T-tongue was fine.”

“But then you won’t kiss me,” Dan gasped, almost laughing. Rorschach tried to be indignant, but another stroke, another twist and it was all he could do just to keep breathing. 

“Turn,” Dan said. “So I can see you.” Rorschach was too past shame to resist. He rolled over to his back and wondered what the sight of him like this would do to Dan's mood. In the dark and in clothes it was easy to imagine what wasn’t there. He was not attractive. He didn’t smell good. Maybe he tasted all right if you ate raw meat, but why the rest of the attraction? He knew that he should be writhing in self-disgust and uncertainty right now, but the knowledge had nothing to back it up with. And the sight of him sprawled out, bruised, blushing, scabbed, unshaven and with what he was sure was a depraved look on his face didn’t seem to deter Dan at all. 

His eyes were alight, gleaming red in the fading sunset. The slick hand wrapped around him and stroked upwards, making his hips lift with it and giving Dan room to position against him. They rolled gently, Dan forward and Rorschach backwards. Dan pressed his knees up, giving him another chance to cringe at how ridiculous his legs looked up in the air, but then Dan was easing in and it was easier and smoother than last time, but it still burned and stretched and forced all the air out of him. Dan was still staring him down,eyes wide in his stunned face.

Rorschach’s neck arched and he felt Dan’s mouth on it. He could feel the shaking in both their arms and knew the absorbing staredown was over when he felt Dan’s hands tighten and his back arch enough to throw his head back. He looked up and saw Dan’s expression as lost and glorious and absurd as his own felt and couldn’t help but heave himself up to kiss the slack mouth. The sudden change in position wrung a cry out of one of them and then there was nothing but greedy mouths and clutching hands and pounding bodies until Rorschach bit down hard enough to make Dan roar and they both shattered into wet, moaning pieces. When their heads cleared, the sun was down.

Once they were up and moving, they took a shower that left them both dazed and hungrier than ever. Rorschach almost forgot to put his mask back on before they headed downstairs. Lewis was gone and there was stress until they realized he was standing by the window facing the alley where Hollis would park. He was so thin and gray he was almost invisible in the dim room. He reminded Dan of a old dog waiting for its master, and suddenly wondered if Phantom would ever let him pet him again.

“He’ll be back soon,” Dan said and Lewis nodded slowly. “Are you hungry?”

“Always,” Lewis whispered. “Still don’t want it.”

“Don’t have to want it,” Rorschach grumbled, not liking the sense of melancholy any more than Dan did. “Just have to eat it.” Lewis nodded again, but didn’t move. Dan and Rorschach went to the kitchen to debate how much cash was in the house to order in vs sending Rorschach out for provisions. Rorschach didn’t want to leave them alone and Dan was informing him that he was pretty sure he could take Byron if it came to a fight when Lewis suddenly went bouncing to the door. A second later they heard the whirr of an engine and sound of the car door. 

Lewis was watching the lock turn with the happiest expression they had seen on him yet. Hollis came in looking tired and frazzled. He had brought more food with him, burgers by the smell of it. Byron gulped hard when he was handed the bag, but whether from nausea or hunger was hard to tell. 

“Contact was informative?” Rorschach asked. Hollis nodded as he locked the door back and shucked off his coat. 

“She wouldn’t tell me the name, but she knew of it,” he said. “Illegal now because of the ethical ramifications, but she said this is home-brewed and therefore more powerful. If, you know, you did your home-brewing in a pharmaceutical lab.”

“Which Veidt does own…” Dan said. Hollis exhaled like a bitter laugh. He was moving quickly and speaking shortly, so when he shooed them all to the kitchen, they went. Everyone sat. He took the bag back and started handing out foam containers. 

“Byron,” he said conversationally. “You are at least two shades the wrong color. You need to eat this time. Choke it down.” Lewis muttered something about eating when some people slept, but an unexpected glare from Hollis made him reach reluctantly for his share. It was burgers with fries and little side containers of coleslaw. Hollis served himself, took a bite, and then started talking.

“Like many things, it began with good intentions,” he said. “They wanted a tranquilizer that didn’t incapacitate. For mental patients or problem convicts, mostly. Something to take the edge off, but still leave them able to function. And it worked. For awhile. The patients were mild and pleasant as you could want and they seemed to like it, too. Lined up every day for their doses.”

“Addictive,” Rorschach guessed and Hollis pointed at him in acknowledgement. 

“More so than was ever suspected.” He looked at Dan. “They didn’t know until they tried to make a cheaper form of it. Then things got ugly. So they increased the dosages and the long-term affects were devastating. It was meant to keep you docile and coming back for more, but in the end, it boiled down to a chemical lobotomy.”

“I was lobotomized once,” Lewis said suddenly. All reeling from the thought of Dan injected with the stuff, everyone looked at him. He stared thoughtfully at the ceiling. “Took three full months to heal that.” 

“Can’t be serious,” Rorschach said and Byron refocused on him so quickly and sharply that Dan almost moved to intercept him. Byron didn’t get out of the chair though. 

“Serious as an icepick through the eye socket,” he said. He looked intense and sharp-edged for that moment. Then, he smiled a little to show Dan a canine and slumped back in the chair. “Once I realized, once I could think…” He gestured at his temples. “I left. Just walked out. There was a search. How far could a lobotomized whacko get? Never found me, figured I must be dead, and eventually people forgot.”

“That’s crazy,” said Dan, disturbed. 

“What did you expect?” Byron shrugged and sighed. “It was a mental hospital. All kinds of crazy there.”

“Eat,” Hollis said, and with another sigh Byron took a bite.

“We need to check on Veidt,” Rorschach said. “Find out what is wrong with him. And the Comedian. May attack again. Can’t be you,” he said as Dan started to speak. “Still have to keep you hidden.”

“I was going to say we could ask Laurie to go visit Veidt in the hospital,” Dan said. “She’s the only one of us he really can’t hurt. Not without the wrath of Jon, if such a thing exists.”

“She has the best chance of approaching Comedian too,” Hollis added.

“You sure about that?” Dan asked, and he nodded without looking up.

“Should be you that contacts her,” Rorschach told Hollis. “Doesn’t think highly of me.”

“I can do that,” he agreed. “And then I need some sleep.”

“Guest room is all yours,” Dan said at once. “I can pull the couch out for Byron.” Hollis made an acknowledging noise and went to the phone. He dialed and waited. 

“Hi pumpkin,” he said. There was a quick squeak of voice from the receiver. “No,” Hollis said. “Yes, I’ve seen him. He’s alive. He’s in rough shape, but - No, he’s not talking yet.” Laurie said something else and Rorschach must’ve been the only who couldn’t hear it because both Dan and Byron glanced at him. Laurie must’ve mentioned his name.

“He wasn’t able to, honey,” Hollis said. “He caught Ozymandias nosing around the Nest and got rid of him, but ended up hurt pretty badly too.” Rorschach grumbled, audible in the pause and Dan grinned at him. 

“That’s actually why I’m calling,” Hollis continued, gesturing at him to be quiet. “Veidt is at the hospital now. His own. Of course. As his teammate, you might be allowed to see him. What? No. Just to see what shape he’s in and whatever else you can find out. If you like. He might already know you know if he really was monitoring when Rorschach called you. Right.” He was quiet for a few moments, just listening. She must’ve been winding down, because he spoke quickly.

“One more thing,” he said. “You have government contacts. Can you find out where the Comedian went?” Laurie’s voice went darker, but Hollis nodded. “I know. But it’ll be harder for him to come out of nowhere if we know where he is.” Another pause. “It’s a possibility... Language!” She snapped something and he chuckled. “It makes you sound like your mother.” 

They all heard the click, so she must’ve hung up hard. Hollis sighed and went back to the table. 

“I could never believe the things that came out of Sally’s mouth when the cameras were off,” he said. Lewis sniggered. “She says she’ll do it. She doesn’t have a time frame, but she’ll see what she can find out.”

“Good enough,” Dan said, even though Rorschach disagreed. He was still annoyed that she knew he had been beaten up. Hollis ate his last French fry and excused himself for a nap. An awkward silence fell over the table when he was gone. Lewis had eaten the patty out of his burger and was glad to stop nibbling at the rest. He pushed the plate away and looked uncertainly at them under his eyebrows.   
　  
“So…” Dan began. His eyes flicked to Rorschach. “You and Bill. How did you- because-”

“We were careful,” Byron said, voice going flat. He looked grave as a Dad who had just realized it was time for the talk. It lasted until he spoke again and then his voice quivered. “So careful. He was so perfect, I couldn’t bear the thought of making him… different. Worse. But. Then. I always think.. if I had bitten him, changed him, he would’ve survived….“ The quiver broke and he hid his face in his hands. “That bullet was just lead. Not silver. He would’ve been hurt, maybe comatose until the next full moon, but he would’ve lived! Would’ve recovered. If I could regenerate prefrontal cortex fibers, he would’ve been able to patch a hole. God, why didn’t I…? I don’t, I just-“

He crumbled and Dan glanced at Rorschach. Rorschach looked back, steady and unafraid. It wasn’t such a terrible thought really. Not anymore. 

“Did you ever talk about it?” Dan asked. Lewis nodded into his hands. “What did he say?”

“Said it was bound to happen eventually,” Lewis wept. “Said it would only be divine intervention if it didn’t.” 

Rorschach almost said that maybe it had been, but he bit it back. Lewis was already in tears, and he didn’t know the old man well enough to be sure he wouldn’t snap if pushed much farther.

“He had a great-aunt,” Lewis sobbed. “Was a nurse at a tuburculosis clinic. Said his great-uncle made sure that everyone knew that he fully expected them both to get it someday and had accepted it. Had ‘in sickness and in health’ inscribed on their wedding bands. Said they wouldn’t ever be afraid of it. If it happened, it happened. Bill said we could be that way too.”

“He was brave,” Dan said. Lewis nodded, getting himself back under control. “Come on. I’ll make up the couch bed for you.”

“I can never sleep after I eat,” Lewis whispered. 

“You can read or listen to the radio or watch TV,” Dan said. “But you look like you need some rest.” 

Lewis wavered, but eventually got up and shuffled into the living room too. He still smelled like the sweat and trauma of the change under the boozy smell. A shower would probably do him more good than sleep. Rorschach followed them in and they watched as Dan pulled out the couch bed and piled it with blankets and pillows to make it more comfortable than the designers ever intended. 

Lewis stared at it and couldn’t seem to come up with a better plan because he gave himself a shake and started shrugging out of his jacket. Dan caught Rorschach’s eye and they both headed up the stairs to give him privacy.


	30. Chapter 30

He was walking through ashes. They were falling like snow, covering the ground. It looked like the aftermath of a volcano, or maybe this is what it would look like if the bombs really did fall. The very earth was crunching like charcoal under his feet and if there were bones or scraps of underwear in the mix, he didn’t want to see. 

Ahead of him was the door to the dress shop, already swinging loose in the frame. He paused in the doorway. Inside lay the dogs, gutted, and Grice's terrified dead face gaping at him from the floor. The ash swirled around them like a grim snow globe scene. As his eyes adjusted, he could make out the shape crouched over Grice. There should've been some sort of sound, but his ears were full of a silent roar.

Daniel raised his head and his blood-slick face rolled back into a mask of teeth. Rorschach had forgotten. In all the confusion, fear, desire, and panic, he had forgotten, and something almost like envy cut him to the bone for nearly a second. Then, Dan lunged and Rorschach ran back out into the burned wasteland. A howl rose behind him. He was still deaf, but he could feel it vibrate through him and was still quivering when he woke up. 

The shiver ran deeper as he realized Dan was sitting awake with him, keeping watch in the dark. His head felt clear for the first time in ages. There was time now. They had a month to lay low and make sense of all of this. Make sense of everything. 

He glanced at Dan. In the dark with his pupils wide, Dan's eyes were rimmed with gold, making him look more like his namesake, and Rorschach felt an animal thrill. Don't, he reminded himself. The moon is waning. Remember the dream. Just because it's safer now than it has been since- And then it hit him how very short a time in had been. Three days since it had finally happened. Three nights ago, blind in the dark, offering himself up in a subway car. He shivered again. The night after that, the attacks, on Daniel and himself. They had both incapacitated their foes he thought with satisfaction, but then the next night had been the concussion, and the shower, the inexplicable gentleness, and the things both animals had wanted. Steady as his mind felt, his stomach clenched at that, and the desire was too obvious for him to pretend it was disgust. 

At least Dan had an excuse to lose control, he thought. He sat up, feeling the ache in his wounds. The one he touched was the mark on his throat, the one that hadn't quite broken the skin yet. Dan's eyes warmed as he watched and he smiled a little without smirking, which allowed Rorschach to close his own eyes and press his fingers in. The ache throbbed farther in a little shockwave. He held back the whimper and kept his eyes shut. 

They should talk, discuss this. Set some sort of parameter, or boundaries, make sense of what they both clearly wanted. Except that he knew Daniel didn't need to. It would only be for his benefit to label and leash what they had now. He mulled it over, letting his inner outrages and scandalized dignity shout at him for awhile. It wasn't until he realized that his shrill sensibilities sounded like sniveling punks in the back of a patrol car (not sorry to have done it, just sorry to have been caught doing it) that he had to accept it for what it was. 

If there was weakness here, it was his. He had made this bed for himself, and if he was completely honest, didn't want to leave it empty. And Dan didn't deserve to be pushed away as if he was the degenerate one. You couldn't blame an animal for acting on its nature. It was a human's job to rise above that, and just because he had failed this time (and likely every time Dan gave him the chance) was no reason to-

"Feel like talking?" Dan rumbled suddenly. Rorschach blinked, letting his train of thought coast to a stop. He sighed and let his hand trail away from his mark.

"Should," he agreed without conviction. 

"Don't have to," Dan said it almost apologetically. He cupped Rorschach's neck, letting the mark throb under his palm. Rorschach leaned into it. 

"Don't want to," he admitted. 

"What do you want?" Dan asked. There were too many ways to interpret that, but only one real answer to all of them. It was just a whisper, but Dan jolted as if he shouted it. 

"You."

"You can have me," Dan said. He nuzzled into the exposed side of Rorschach's throat and slid the other arm down to loop around his back. They pulled tight together, nestling into a nest of kisses and hands. It stayed gentle enough that the when the phone rang downstairs they both tilted their heads to hear Hollis answer. He didn't speak very often, so whoever had called must've been chatty. 

"Probably Laurie," Dan guessed. Rorschach nodded, then pulled back with a sigh and sat up to look for his clothes. He got his underwear and jeans on before Dan offered him a white button shirt from the closet. 

"Your t-shirt's a little ripe," he said. "Wear this until we can get some laundry done." Rorschach suspected that his shirt wouldn't be so bad to anyone without enhanced sense of smell, but also knew he wasn't the best judge of things like that. He took the shirt and his inspection of it was interrupted by a nip on his ear that turned into a kiss on his neck and a drag of teeth across his shoulder. Dan pulled away to get himself dressed and Rorschach shivered into the borrowed shirt. It was too wide across his shoulders, but had been worn soft. He still put on his mask afterwards, but kept it rolled up to his nose. 

They went downstairs. Hollis was still on the phone, scribbling away on some scrap paper. Byron was still on the pullout sofa, watching the news on the small tv. He was glaring at it and chewing brutally on a pencil. They could hear it splintering under his teeth from the hallway. 

"How did he look?" Hollis was asking the phone. He raised his eyebrows at them and nodded them on by. The pencil in Byron's mouth finally snapped. He spit out one piece and kept gnawing on the other. 

"Look at this," he said suddenly, pointing at the screen. 

"No, honey, that was Byron," Hollis said. 

Dan and Rorschach leaned over to see what was going on. An anchor in a burgundy suit was talking about some bill that was in consideration. Someone named Senator Keane was going on about how unappreciated the police force was and how all their heroics were being undermined by a certain fringe element. Dan mouthed 'that's us' at Rorschach who wasn't amused.

"Trust the government to ruin anything they can't tax or control," Byron muttered. "But for nothing else." Rorschach was thinking of the way the police at the train yard had treated him and didn't argue. Unappreciated and undermined? More like useless and ungrateful. Pondering that distracted him from arguing with Byron until Hollis hung up and offered his own comment. 

"You can't outlaw heroes," Hollis said. "Humans have a need for it. Always will."

"They also have a need for power," Byron grumbled. He bit through the pencil with another snap and spit out that piece too. "And what they don't have power over they will do their best to leash or destroy."

"Was that Laurie?" Dan asked, scooting his cup of pencils into reach. Byron had the manners to look sheepish when he realized the mess he was making. Hollis nodded and looked at his note. 

"She wants to see you," he said to Dan.

"No," Rorschach said at once. Hollis looked at him, but Dan didn't argue, so he shrugged a little. "Not yet," Rorschach added just to be sure everyone understood. "Have to think that he's healing normally. Can't suspect-" Hollis held up his hand. He got it.

"I told her that he woke up for a little while, but the bloodloss and medications are keeping him under for the most part," he said. "She went to see Veidt in the hospital. She's not sure he knew who she was at first. And when he did, he didn't seem to care. She said he was real twitchy, face and fingers jerking. She says they're worried about his neurotransmitters. They don't know if it'll wear off or if there will be long-term affects yet."

Rorschach made a darkly hopeful sound in his throat and Dan gave him a friendly elbow nudge. 

"She wrote this down and had to sound it out for me," Hollis said. "Chlorpromazine. They are comparing it to thorazine. They think that whatever it was, it's related. They definitely think it was some kind of a neuroleptic and therefore likely to have a dulling effect on his mental and emotional functions. Again, they don't know how extensive the damage is or how permanent, but she says he looks bad." 

"Good," Rorschach growled. He flopped down next to Byron to glare at the news.

"You know what it is," Byron said to Hollis. "You could tell them and they could at least stop testing him."

"He sent Edward Blake to drug and kidnap Dan," Hollis said. "Got him shot three times and then broke into his sanctuary to finish the job. He's earned himself a few more needle jabs." With that established, he turned back to Dan. "She said she'll call back tomorrow to check on you. At some point, you'll have to fake a whisper and talk to her on the phone or something. She really is worried about you."

"Eventually. Not until we know where the Comedian is," Dan said. "Last thing we need is having to do this all over again."

No one could argue with that, so they all sat down to finish the news.


	31. Chapter 31

The next day was stormy with thunder and heavy rain. Hollis ventured out to get groceries just to keep everyone low-key. They ate clam chowder and grilled cheese sandwiches and watched the edited-for-TV version of Rollerball, which got Byron and Rorschach both muttering about dystopian governments and the power of individuals. Dan just watched it for the tech. 

They had all settled in, bored but comfortable, when a flash outside the front windows made them all tense for the thunder to follow. The only sound though, was a knock on the door. They all went quiet until the second knock came and then sprang into action. Rorschach bulldozed Dan off the couch and up the stairs. Byron turned the TV off. Hollis waited a moment to make sure everyone was out of sight. When Rorschach reappeared to sit on the stairs and therefore block them, he took a deep breath and answered the door. 

Laurie was there and she swept in before she could be invited to get out of the rain. She was soaked, a little green around the gills, and chewing a mouthful of breath mints. Jon must've teleported her. Rorschach figured she had thrown up in the shrubs and glowered even more. 

"I know, I know," she said loudly before anyone could ask her what she was doing there. "He isn't taking visitors yet, but I had to get out of there for a little while and when I tried to take a drive, a car followed me."

"So you lead them here??" Rorschach snapped and she glared back at him as she took off her wet coat. 

"Of course not! I went home and asked Jon how badly it would ruin things if he teleported me. He didn't foresee any disasters, so we went for it."

"Why?" It was more growl than word. She ignored him this time, and spoke to Hollis. 

"I wanted to tell you," she said. "That something is definitely up. When I asked about the Comedian, I got a lot of attention. They knew I had been to visit Adrian and wanted to know what he had told me, and if he had said anything about the Comedian or his special project. That's when they started following me."

"Does Jon know what's going on?" Hollis asked. Laurie blew her bangs of her forehead with an exasperated sigh. 

"Whatever it is, it won't affect him directly," she said. "He's changing his work around to 'compensate for the failure of Adrian's project', so hopefully that means whatever craziness Adrian started had been put out to pasture for good." 

"Well, that's good news, I hope," Hollis agreed. "What's your plan?"

"I'm hoping you'll call me a cab," she said. "I'm going to see a movie and maybe shoe-shop, so I can sashay past my guard dogs a few inches taller. They're not the boss of me."

Hollis had to laugh and went for the phone. Laurie looked at Rorschach again, smugly this time. He had his mask hitched up to his nose to eat and the bruises and scabs were still visible.

"Never thought you would be able to take down Ozymandias," she said. It was a catty little parting shot and he bristled, but answered honestly. 

"Nearly killed me," he rasped. Her eyebrows raised. "Left me for dead on the subway tracks. Don't even remember dodging the train or the electric rail. Got back here, but just barely." He was staring her down through the mask, and his eyes didn't have to be visible to bore through her. "Bad night," he finished and Laurie really wasn't able to disagree. 

A few minutes later there was a beep. She kissed Hollis on the cheek and begged him to let her know as soon as she could talk to Dan. She put her coat back on to hurry out to the waiting cab. They were all quiet until it pulled away and then Rorschach got up to go tell Dan. He heard the TV come back on and Hollis' and Byron's voices in quick debate. He found Dan lurking by his bedroom door. 

"You heard?" he guessed, ducking inside. Dan nearly tackled him up against the wall. Taken off guard, Rorschach wasn't even able to enk before he was flattened in a searing kiss. The bewildered noise trailed into a muffled groan and he tangled his hands in Dan's hair just to hang on. Pressed tight between Dan and the wall and anchored around Dan's neck, there was no reason to keep his feet on the floor. When Dan ground in between his thighs, he wrapped them around Dan's waist.

Dan made a helpless noise and buried his face in Rorschach's neck, letting him gasp for breath as they rocked against the wall. 

"What-?" Rorschach panted and Dan pried a sucking kiss loose enough to talk into his skin.

"Could've died," he whimpered. "Didn't tell me you could've died."

"You, you knew that," Rorschach gasped back, arching up higher when Dan's grip tightened. 

"He could've killed you," Dan went on. "Could've been hit by the train, electrocuted."

"Wasn't!" Which was obvious, almost as obvious as how badly Rorschach wished he could get a hand in between them, but they were crushed together too tightly. 

"Because I found you," Dan was saying and his hands were so busy that Rorschach sank fingernails through his gloves into Dan's shoulders. "And I could've done anything, could've killed you too."

"Didn't." It was a bitten off growl, too desperate to have any threat behind it.

"Could've!" Dan insisted, fumbling to get their clothes open enough to press skin to skin. 

"Didn't! Daniel!" Rorschach's voice rose in frustration and need, and Dan smothered it out in another kiss deep enough to choke on. Rorschach's head bounced against the wall when he threw it back and Dan tried to get his hand under it to cushion it, but too quickly it was all they could do just to cling to each other and muffle their cries enough to keep from startling the neighbors. 

"Can't lose you," Dan said when they could form words again. He shuddered. "Can't even imagine it. It's like a hole where the world should be. Do dogs feel that way when they lose an owner? I just-"

"Stop." Rorschach sighed, leaning into touch their lips together. It wasn't a kiss, but it was close. "No need. Feel the same. If you had died," he trailed off, pressing three fingers to the bullet marks. Dan did kiss him then and when his tongue was finally released it was too weak to stop the words from slipping off it and then Dan wasn't able to stop kissing him until Hollis finally called to see if they were all right.

They went downstairs once they were presentable again and found Hollis straightening up everything in reach. He was clearly distracted, bordering on upset. Rorschach assumed it was from knowing what they had just been doing and felt an embarrassed pang, but Dan didn't seem to notice. 

"Where's Byron?" he asked. 

"Gone for a walk," Hollis said. He sighed, and Rorschach recognized the emotion as worry now. "To see if anyone's watching the house, he says." Another sigh. "And most likely to get a refill."

"Does the booze really help him?"

"Kills his appetite, probably takes the edge off," Hollis refocused on Dan. "Go get some bandage dressings and we'll wrap you up. That way the next time someone shows up uninvited, you can just play 'possum." That was a good idea, so Dan went to get the first aid kit and Hollis eyed Rorschach, who braced for whatever was coming,

"You have to keep yourself safe now, too," Hollis said, and it was so far from what Rorschach had expected that he could only make a questioning noise. Hollis lowered his voice. "It wasn't the curse or the booze that destroyed Byron. It was that bullet through Bill's head. I can't watch Dan go the same way. Take care of yourself."

He turned away, leaving Rorschach too flustered to do anything but fidget until Dan resurfaced with some rolls of gauze and bandages. He peeled off his shirt and let Rorschach carefully bind them over his scars. Rorschach could feel the heat burning through the gauze and was mentally processing some excuse about infections and fever for anyone who asked, but it was hard to think when Dan kept leaning into him. Dan's head tilted towards him, his whole body adjusting for the most contact possible. 

"Could be watched," Rorschach tried to remind him in a whisper. Dan's hands covered his. 

"Then we're already screwed," Dan said, and kissed him. 

They ended up on the couch watching Match Game with the sound off. Hollis was up and pacing. He had put something in the oven but it wasn't cooked enough to smell what it might be yet. He checked the windows for the third time and Dan spoke up.

"Will he be all right out there? I mean, if someone hassles him, will he fight or-?"

"Anyone who tries to push him around is in for a surprise," Hollis said. "Even when he's three sheets to the wind, he can get vicious in a hurry if he has to. Especially if there are guns. He used to carry one in costume, was a good shot too. Some sort of southern gentleman thing, I guess. After Bill was shot, he couldn't stand guns, and when he got real bad, we took his from him so he couldn't kill himself with it, though there were those who muttered that that might've been the kindest thing."

Dinner was ready and the news was on before Dan looked up a moment or two before the doorbell rang. 

"Smell him?" Rorschach asked.

"Just the bourbon at this range," Dan said as Hollis went to let him in. Byron was unsteady on his feet and talking too loud.

"Car at the end of the block!" he reported. "Was there when I left, is there now, and two men inside just watching."

"Come in and sit," Hollis said steering him toward an armchair with a tv tray. "I'll take the trash out in a little while and see if they pay any attention to me." Byron had already stopped listening though and was sniffing noisily at Rorschach. 

"That isn't fair," he complained, both loud and mournful. "Not that I blame you, mind." Rorschach was saved from being utterly mortified when Dan leaned in again.

"Did you ever think of someone else?" he asked and Byron made a face and collapsed back into the chair with a dismissive sound.

"Who?" he asked, waving his arms and knocking a nearby lampshade crooked. "Who would ever know and understand enough to be trusted and-"

"Hollis," Dan offered at once. Hollis gave Dan a look, but Byron just snorted. 

"And get scorched by that torch he's carrying? No thanks. Not that I don't have one of those of my own."

"Looks like I'll be going out now," Hollis muttered, scooping the bag up and heading for the door.

"Unkind," Rorschach snapped at Byron, taking up for Hollis since he was the only one with a sense of shame left to talk to.

"He started it," Byron hiccuped, pointing at Dan. "N-not my fault the nerve is so raw."

"Like you can talk," Dan almost chuckled, but his eyes were gleaming,

"I know, right?" Byron looked at him and his own eyes were tearing up. "And you'd think there would be somebody. I've, I've even been drunk enough to try a few times, w-with s-someone else, but it's n-never the same." The tears started rolling and Byron curled in on himself, rocking in the chair. "N-never right. S-square pegs in, in round holes and it's, it's just-"

"Easy," Dan said, part sympathy, part command. "Enough."

"You s-started it," Byron said again. "And you, you d-don't, can't know. Your other is still alive." Whatever Dan's answer to that might've been was cut off when Hollis swept back in.

"Definite surveillance," he said. "Car is still there and there's a repairman on the roof across the street at this hour which means he's no repairman."

"What do we do?"

"Your ship. Get you out of sight and out of reach." Hollis pointed toward the door in the kitchen and all four men froze when a crash came from the same spot. A second came and they saw the door vibrate. Someone was in the Nest and breaking in. Dan was on his feet in a flash, territorial snarl already in place when there was a whine of metal and a blast that splintered the door. Unable to kick the door in since Dan had reinforced it, the intruder had used explosives.


	32. Chapter 32

Rorschach grabbed Dan and bolted for the stairs. Dan was growling, but Rorschach crammed him into his room.

"Can get out the window," he hissed. Dan was already trying to argue. "Be ready in case they get by me!" He ducked away quickly around the corner and jumped over the landing to land with a crash at the foot of the stairs. The first thing he saw was the barrel of a gun right in his face. The Comedian was behind it, unmasked, and a patch over one eye. He was covered in ash and dust from blowing up Dan's door. 

“I would say I got no beef with you," he said around the cigar clenched in his teeth. "But it wasn't the birdnerd who stripped me naked and dumped me on a rooftop. Still, move and we might not see what shapes your brain makes splattered on the wall."

"Nearly dead because of you," Rorschach snarled back. "What do you want?" The Comedian barked out a single 'ha!'

"Me?" he mocked. "Oh, I'd like my eye back, thanks for asking. And you wouldn't be guarding the stairs if he wasn't here. Last chance." Rorschach saw his finger shift on the trigger. He would have barely an instant to move enough to get his head out of the way. If he was fast enough, he could get a hand up, cram a finger between the trigger and handle so it couldn't be pulled. That would put him at close range with the fight of his life. His best bet would be to aim for the remaining eye-

The click of two more guns made both men stop. Hollis was on one side with his old police firearm. Byron was on the other with his own gun. They were both aiming at the Comedian's head. 

"One of us would drop you before you even heard your own shot," Hollis said. "Eddie, what are you doing?"

"S'it look like?" the Comedian drawled, but Rorschach saw his jaw tighten. "Your teacher's pet cut out my fuckin' eye. Seems to me if he's going around with an extra eye, he's gonna need an extra hole in his head for it. You know what a helpful soul I am. "

"Eddie…" Hollis began. The Comedian knew better than to take his eye off Rorschach, but he snarled over his shoulder.

"You think I didn't know about the souse there?" He jerked his head towards Byron. "I didn't mention him to Veidt because what do I care and Maine's weather sucks this time of year. But with that damn kid missing, Owlie Jr gets to go on the slab."

"Child is dead," Rorschach grated. "Nite Owl near death. Should kill you for that much alone."

"Big talk, but that's all you've got." Eddie smirked at him. "Barney Fife back there has never shot anyone in his life, and Kid Shelleen is seeing double right now anyway."

Byron fired. Hollis screamed at him and Rorschach ducked. The impact sent the Comedian sprawling and Rorschach spun to kick his gun away before aiming another kick into his throat. Byron's shot had hit him in the back so the armor had stopped most of it and he was choking and thrashing too much to be dead.

"Byron!" Hollis roared.

"It's fine!" Rorschach shouted up the stairs to keep Dan out of sight. 

"Seeing double won't matter if you're eyes are closed!" Byron giggled and Hollis snatched the gun away from him. The Comedian gurgled and made it to his knees. Rorschach hit him with all the power he had, bouncing his skull off the floor to keep him down longer. It sent pain all the way to his elbow, but it worked. There was a pounding on the door.

"Police!" someone bellowed. "Open the door!"

"They heard the shot," Rorschach realized. 

"Damn it, Byron!" Hollis snapped. "Get Dan out now."

Dan was already at the top of the stairs when Rorschach turned. 

"Archie," Rorschach said. "Now. Have to go." Dan sprang down with them as another order came from the door.

"What about-?" Dan gestured at Comedian and Hollis shooed him on. 

"We'll douse him in bourbon," he said quickly. "Say he got drunk and things got out of hand. Go. GO!"

Dan and Rorschach hurried down the stairs to Archie, Dan grabbing useful things on the way. Rorschach cast around the Nest too, but all he could think of was how much work Dan had put into it. 

"Not safe here anymore," he said dropping into his seat as Dan got the engines going."If the Comedian can get in anytime-"

"Rather kill him than have to give it up," Dan grumbled. They shot off down the tunnel in a blur of light and darkness.

"…yes," Rorschach agreed. "But may have told others. May have no choice."

They zipped into the river and decided to stay submerged in case anyone was watching for them at the exit too. They sped along the river bed in silence until the grinding of Dan's teeth became audible.

"Can't arrest Hollis," Rorschach offered. "He's one of them. And grudge with the Comedian is well known. Call it an old Minutemen reunion turned sour when the booze ran out."

"God, I hope it's that simple," Dan sighed. There was another short silence. "Where should we go?"

"Stay hidden," Rorschach said at once. "Hope they don't investigate basement." Dan swore at the thought.

"If that happens, we can't go home again period," he said. 

"Hollis is there. Will handle it."

"And Byron. I can't believe he shot the Comedian." Rorschach made an agreeing sound.

"Startled me too," he admitted. "Grateful Comedian's gun didn't go off as well."

"Then I'd have to kill Eddie and Byron," Dan said, and he stroked Rorschach's face, knuckle tracing over his cheek. Rorschach could've argued that he had been able to dodge, but he allowed the caress in silence. 

"Do you have a place we could go to?" Dan asked suddenly. Rorschach had to consider. 

'Doubtful," he said. "Haven't been back since this began. Surely evicted by now." Dan swore again. 

"That's your identity in trouble too then!" he said. "Do you want to go? Get your stuff?"

"No one will find it," Rorschach said, even if he did feel a pang for his old daytime suit and sign. "Can go anytime."

"You're sure?"

"Not worth it, Daniel."

"All right." Dan said. They rode quietly again until he started thinking out loud. "The only other masks to go to are Laurie and Jon."

"Constant military surveillance," Rorschach reminded him.

"Yeah. Hey! Laurie's mom lives out west right? She might put us up for the night. For old times sake."

"Too far to go," Rorschach said. "Fine like this. Find a place to park and wait. We can call Hollis when we're sure it has had time to blow over."


	33. Chapter 33

The night passed slowly at the bottom of the river. They made the best of it. Dan turned on the night vision and they explored, finding old sunken tunnels, cars, train cars, and things too far gone to identify. They made their way into deeper water, towards the Atlantic. The deeper they went, the colder and darker it got. Even when the sun came up, it was still pitch black. They debated whether it was too soon to call. No one answered at the brownstone when they did, which upset Dan all over again. He was worried about Hollis and furious that his home had been invaded. Not being able to do anything about it made him even more agitated. 

There wasn't room to really pace, so he slumped moodily in his chair until the strain on eyes and back got him up again. Rorschach had had enough and dragged out the spare capes again to make a bed for them. 

"Sun's up," he said, without glancing at the clock. 

"Time to sleep," Dan agreed. He found a place to park Archie where the current wouldn't move them much. "When was the last time we were out in daylight?" 

"Bakery?" 

"Could be."

They kicked off shoes and pulled off shirts and belts to settle in side by side. Dan rolled to his side and slid on arm over Rorschach's chest. Rorschach turned toward him and ducked under his chin when Dan pulled him close. They didn't speak for a long time, dozing on and off in the deep cool of the water. They were out of sight of the clock, but it felt like a few hours had passed before they were both definitely awake at the same time. They enjoyed it for awhile, and then Dan started to speak twice without saying anything. Rorschach waited. 

"Would you have ever-" Dan began. "If I hadn't been bitten, if none of this had happened, would we have ever gotten to this point?"

Rorschach thought about it. He could remember the chill of his broken pieces no longer keeping enough warmth in to let himself feel entirely human. He remembered the grim resignation that his partner would never understand the transformation he had gone through with the blood and the fire. He remembered several trips to see Dan that ended without Dan ever knowing he had almost been there. That had been before. 

He remembered the first full moon, the first second night, with Dan pulling him tight up against the bars, too-warm breath and too-hot tongue on his face. Dan hadn't remembered that, had been stunned when he did the same in the haze of his nightmare.He couldn't remember when the fear of what Dan would do had become more of the fear of what he would let Dan do. Then it had become fear he wouldn't. What was it now? How had they gotten to this point? 

It had been like erosion, Dan's heat and need wearing him down, gradually enough that he hadn't noticed with everything else going on. It had gone creeping through his subconscious until he started eroding from the inside as well. His barriers hadn't been able to hold out against an onslaught from both sides and he had been overwhelmed. He had held out a month, and only ended up naked in the dark, wide open, desperate, and hungry. Just remembering it made him ache and he rolled to press closer.

"Too polite before," he mumbled into Dan's chest. "Wouldn't have persisted. Would have let me push you away."

"Would you have?"

"Yes," Rorschach admitted. Dan was quiet and he added. "The first few times anyway."

"How few?" Dan asked, and his tone was teasing enough that his feelings weren't hurt. Rorschach almost smiled.

"A dozen," he said. "Maybe two." Dan chuckled a little, combing fingers through his hair.

"That wasn't a no," he said. "Persistence, huh?"

"Hard to resist." Rorschach caught one of his hands and turned it to find the tiny scar on his knuckle. It was barely visible, a small pale spot in the creases. He stroked his thumb over it and felt Dan's breath in his ear. "Didn't change you that much. Just amplified everything until you couldn't hold it back." His kissed it and felt fingers tighten in his hair again.

"Blake," Dan said. "William, I mean. Said something about only restraining desires weak enough to be restrained."

"Nothing weak about you now." Rorschach hadn't intended to say it out loud, especially not in such a shy whisper. Dan rolled over on top of him and he welcomed it. Dan curled an arm under his head to pillow it and Rorschach strained up against his weight just for the pleasure of it before relaxing and wrapping his own arms around Dan's shoulders. 

"I know you like this," Dan whispered, touching their noses. "Being pinned flat. And I know you like my teeth on your throat. Your whole scent changes and it makes my head spin. At first I was afraid that I was just your death wish with benefits-"

"No," Rorschach interrupted. "No intention of-" He faltered a little, not sure of how to say it. "Of leaving you." Dan absorbed that slowly.

"But you might have before," he said. Rorschach closed his eyes.

"No," he said again. "You would still have had to have left me."

"Why," Dan said and the edge in the word made Rorschach look up. "Would I do that?"

"Murderer," Rorschach said, voice going blank. "Insane. No better than the scum. Should be locked up with them. Isn't that what they say when I'm not there?"

"Not where I can hear them they don't," Dan said. His voice hadn't dropped all the way to a growl, but there was enough for Rorschach to squint at him. He had overheard or had to pretend he didn't hear things muttered or laughed from their former teammates long enough to have been fairly sure that Dan would've heard them too. 

"Things changing," he said when Dan didn't budge. "In the world, in the team."

"Not much of a team anymore," Dan muttered. "With us on the run and two turned traitor, one who never wanted to do it anyway, and one already doing 'more important' work."

"Expected things to break bad eventually. Worse. Nothing like this, but something."

"Before?" Dan asked. Rorschach nodded, looking past Dan to the ceiling.

"Felt things slipping away. Knew you would be one of them eventually." 

Dan couldn't help but wince. He was almost hurt to have been thought so fickle, but the main emotion was distress that Rorschach had been that miserable and he hadn't even know. 

"How so?" he asked to keep him talking. He felt a sigh he didn't hear.

"Best case scenario, you would quit. Retire. Set up armchairs with Mason." 

"That's the best case??After what you said about Adrian?" Dan almost laughed. Rorschach didn't even smile. "Dare I ask what the worst is?"

"Could be killed. Because you were merciful when you should've finished it. Because I wasn't there." Dan made a sympathetic sound and Rorschach clutched him close before admitting. "When you didn't show that first night and I found the blood in your house, assumed the worst. For a moment."

"Bet werewolves didn't make the list," Dan said, but he wasn't grinning anymore. Rorschach's face hid against his neck and Dan felt his fingers squeeze.

"Not so bad," he whispered. "Still alive, still here." He stopped talking so quickly that Dan knew there was something else he had almost said. 

"And there's no way I can quit on you now," Dan added when he didn't go on. "Even if I could, the moon isn't going to let me retire. I'm never going to be normal. And I can't stand to be away from you for very long anymore anyway." Dan nudged and nuzzled until he looked up again and Rorschach surprised him with a kiss. It ended just as quickly, with a little gasp as if Rorschach hadn't been expecting it either. 

He tried to turn his face away, but Dan could turn every direction he could. There was no getting away from his eyes or mouth and both hovered just an inch away until Rorschach sighed again and leaned in for another kiss. The heat and taste of Dan's tongue was no longer a shock but he still shivered at the low, happy sound it got when he slid his own into Dan's mouth. 

Dan groaned and sucked it in hard enough to get a whimper. The warmth and the squeeze sent electricity coursing through him, made him imagine other ways to be inside and enclosed and he tore free with another gasp. Dan let him this time, content to snuggle into his ear. They lay that way until they were both hungry enough to get up. 

Dan went to check their location and was surprised at how late in the day it really was and how far they had gone around the coast. The nearest city was New Haven, so they changed clothes and found a place to leave Archie unseen. 

"Ever been to Connecticut?" Dan asked. Rorschach shook his head, hands deep in his pockets. They found a pizza place crowded enough to disappear in and worked their way to the back. They ordered cokes and whatever the specialty was. It turned out to be pizza with clams which Rorschach was reluctant to try until Dan had happily gobbled down his fourth piece. He declared it edible and ate three slices of his own. There was still no answer when they called home, and they made their way back to Archie, buying a few newspapers on the way. 

They decided to stay underwater in case the military was involved and on the look out for aircraft, but make their way back to New York. They could call again from another city. Until they knew how justified the paranoia was, they didn't want to take chances.


End file.
